The Best Secretarybots a Magnus Could Ask For
by Zira Angel
Summary: Optimus and Orion have a plan to bond to Ultra Magnus, and not even overenthusiastic Decepticons, a far too large and disorganized datapad storage, or not enough energon will get in their way.
1. Chapter 1

New fic! Yeah! I'm hoping you guys like it. I know that you normally don't review, but I like knowing what you think of it. I'd love a review.

And to the people getting this on alerts, sorry for it showing up in the wrong category, but this seems to be the only way to upload things. I'm going to move it from Vocaloid to Transformers in a sec!

Transformers belongs to Hasbro

* * *

Optimus and Orion had been something of a surprise to their creators, who had only been expecting a single sparkling from the blessing they'd received from their planet's Allspark temple. Instead, they'd been granted twins, and Optimus and Orion had been formed.

What had been most startling-and deeply confusing for every bot who'd ever met them-was their degree of similarity. Most twins shared similar frames, but had different helmets and paint schemes. Not so for Optimus and Orion, who were identical from the tips of their headfins to the bottom of their peds. They'd been painted differently all the time, and they would diligently scrape the paint away from their identical base coats the very moment they were able to.

Eventually, their creators had stopped.

And then their creators had died, but that was another story altogether.

This sol, the twins had much to rejoice about. Each vorn, various councilmechs and femmes would take students from the Autobot Academy for special tutoring or work experience, and the twins had been attempting to secure the position they longed for longer than either could remember.

Optimus clasps his servos with Orion's, leaning in close to his brother to whisper, "I was in Sergeant Kup's office earlier, to review a paper with him, and I caught a glimpse of the assignments for the next vorn."

Orion gasps, "Oh, slag, who are we with? Did we get-"

"Yes!" Optimus's spark tingles with joy. "We got _Ultra_ _Magnus_!"

Orion's optics brighten, "We'll have to shine each other extra nice when we go report to him."

Optimus links his arm in with his twin's, "When we're situated more firmly, we'll have to shine each other when we're _there_."

There's the sound of movement that can only be Sentinel, and they make a face at each other before straightening up and holding themselves tightly together. The larger mech has the annoying tendency to hold them in each arm. They don't mind so much, but it it _frustrating_ to be treated like arm candy when they're so excited.

Elita-1 often treated them the same way, but after they'd interfaced her a few times she'd mostly lost interest. She'd flat-out told them that Sentinel was better at licking spark than they were, and Optimus and Orion had gone out and jumped Sentinel that very same night to prove her wrong.

Sadly, she hadn't been wrong. Sentinel was slagging good with his glossa. It was even better because he shut up while he was doing it.

Sentinel steps over to them, giving them a disappointed look when he sees them clinging together, but puts a servo on the both of their shoulders, "Optimus, Orion!" They both roll their optics, and the mech continues, "They're going to be announcing who we're going to be working for in a decacycle or so. Want to congratulate me on my inevitable job for the Magnus?"

They both exchange a smirk, and Optimus shakes his head, "No. You can't _know_ who you're working for yet. We _might_ help celebrate when we know for certain."

Orion stands up on the tips of his peds to brush a kiss against Sentinel's cheek. "Congratulations on your job as the Magnus's _janitor_." Cackling, Orion ducks Sentinel's swiping arms and hides behind his brother. "I bet you love scrubbing his floors."

Sentinel huffs and straightens imperiously. "We'll see what kind of tune you're singing when _I_ am working directly under the Magnus and you are stuck trying to avoid Wheeljack's explosions when you're shoved with a random sciencebot again."

They smirk at him, and Optimus holds a little closer to Orion, "That wasn't as bad as you kept insisting it was. We spent a lot of time learning from Perceptor."

Orion smirks, "While you spent all that time with Cosmos. Did you like his talk of various planets he loves, but will never visit?"

Sentinel glares at them, "It was educational. Unlike what _you're_ doing."

Sticking his glossa out, Optimus says disdainfully, "You're jealous because _we_ get better assignments every vorn and you keep getting reject bots who take you out of pity. Or because they've heard you have a great glossa."

Sentinel turns so red his face goes _purple_, and Orion stifles a giggle. They love riling him up, because he gets so stiff and rigid about rules and policies sometimes that they _have_ to or he'll snap right in half from the pressure. "I do _not_ interface my mentors."

Orion and Optimus giggle together, "To their eternal disappointment." Orion wraps his arms around Optimus, and they say at the same time, "It speaks well for you, Sentinel, but they still hear about your glossa and want it."

They giggle as the larger mech glares at them, "While _you_ _two_ need to stop plotting to get on the Magnus's good side through your sparks."

They give him a upset look, and Optimus huffs, "We _aren't_. We will show him how wonderful we are, and you're just jealous."

"Whatever," Sentinel waves them off before pulling a datapad from his subspace. "Here. Picked this up at the library while I was out. I want you slaggers to stop checking things out under my name. I don't read _Glosswing_ because I'm not a widdle sparkling."

Orion takes the pad with far more dignity than it deserves. "Thank you. We promise to only read the interesting parts out loud to you."

"I'd rather you didn't read _any_ of it out loud. I don't give a frag about your crush on Metalmist, or the pathetic self-insert fanfiction you've been writing during your classes."

They give him a dirty look, "Officers Lightspark and Sparkdrive are _canon_! They may not get mentioned much, but they _are_ there! You're just upset because you don't have a twin."

The larger mech gives them a flat look, "I don't _need_ a twin." The mech's expression turns rather lecherous, and they get grabbed around the waist, "Not when I have you two here."

They make a face at him, "You're with Elita-1, and she's already warned us off of you."

"Not today I'm not," Sentinel drags both of them out of the room. "She's positive she's getting paired up with either Red Alert or one of the higher council femmes, and she said I'm not going to shame her during the announcement. That means I get to have my two pretty twin mechs as my side instead. Aren't you lucky?"

Luck isn't what Orion would call this. "Sure. Does that mean _we_ get to shame you?"

Optimus makes a face as he's kissed, and Sentinal smirks, "I doubt you'll shame me while we're in the assembly hall at the announcement in a decacycle." They're pulled out into a more public area, "So we're going to go to celebrate."

They pull away from him, and they hold each other tightly so the mech can't grab them again, "We told you we aren't going to. You need to remember that our decisions are perfectly valid, even if you don't like them. If you want to be a Prime, you need to remember that."

"And _I_ told you that I'd be buying your energon tonight if you came with me." Sentinel pauses significantly as both twins lean closer to him, taking his bait, "Since that sweet shop you like is right next door to the bar. I figured I could get you an energon bar to share."

Orion is _so_ very tempted. He loves sharing the sweet, sticky energon bars with Optimus, licking it off of each others' servos until nothing remains but equally sweet and sticky kisses that always lead to overcharged interfacing. On the other servo, he'll have to put up with an overcharged and grope-happy Sentinel.

They share a look, and reluctantly shake their heads. They _really_ don't want to deal with Sentinel right now. Optimus kisses Orion softly, and they murmur, "You can pay for our energon when we are working for the Magnus. We're sure you'll have fun then."

They move away before the mech can grab their afts, "You mean when _I'm_ working for the Magnus."

They make a face, "You can think that, but _we're_ going to be the ones he wants."

"Yeah, and when you end up 'working' every sol spread out on his desk, that'll do you a whole lot of good at getting you an honest Prime rank," Sentinel sneers, but they both know he's just upset that they won't go out drinking with him.

Optimus loops an arm around Orion's waist, turning with his brother, "We'll see you when you get back, Sentinel. Don't stay out too late or go home with any strange femmes."

They dodge away from the customary grope from the mech. "If you'd come with me, that wouldn't be a problem."

They ignore him, and head to the barracks.

* * *

They carefully avoid standing near any bot that will try to wrap arms around their waists as they stand in the assembly hall. They clutch together in excitement, they know they're going to have to wait, since Ultra's chosen bots are always _last_, but they know it will be worth it.

Both bots hide their nervousness by offering each other little kisses, which aren't entirely appropriate, but it's not something any of their tutors and professors are going to complain about. Not when they get guilty spark-pulses from seeing the twins kissing like that.

Sentinel scowls at them when he's paired off with some long-distance recon bot again-it seems like they're trying to get him interested in being far, far away from Cybertron.

They both giggle softly at his irritated look, but don't say anything about it; not wanting to get too close to him.

When Elita-1 gets Botanica, she is incredibly smug looking, and they aren't surprised at her being with the femme. Femmes normally choose other femmes to have working with them, after all.

They go through the rest of the bots, getting increasingly nervous, even if they _know_ they're getting who they want. It is very wire fraying to have to wait for the announcement, but when it happens, they hug each other tightly, pressing tiny kisses to each other's lips in their excitement.

They are shortly joined by Sentinel, who says flatly, "Looks like you made it." The tone turns absolutely filthy, "So you said that we can celebrate this together?"

"You can buy us our energon sweets," Orion hums, noticing that Ultra Magnus is watching them from across the room. /_Ultra is watching us, Optimus. Should we play it up a little?_/ He keeps his optics fixed on Sentinel, dragging his fingers down the bot's shoulder guards.

/_I'm up for it if you are, Orion. Just make sure Sentinel's licking one of us if we end up with him in the berth tonight. I don't want him babbling things again._/

Orion presses against Optimus, /_That is ALWAYS frustrating. I wonder if Elita invested in a gag for him. One that stops his talking, but leaves his glossa free._/

They both start to giggle, kissing each other as they press against Sentinel, /_Those are so FILTHY. Only berthbots that talk too much have them._/

Orion rubs against them both, /_Sentinel certainly counts, then._/

/_He'll make some bot a nice berthwarmer some sol_/, Optimus teases, breaking their kiss just before it reaches the filthiness level that the professors _will_ interrupt. /_C'mon. We've gotten Ultra all riled up over there, so I think we're safe to go out and celebrate now. I want some energon bars._/

Slipping away, Orion tugs both bots towards the door, /_Sounds like a plan to me._/

* * *

When they report in to Autobot Headquarters, they are shined to perfection. They know that, technically, they shouldn't have, but they want to impress the Magnus. They walk in step, making their peds click prettily. They're going to be discussing if they should get heelmods or other things to make them even more distracting while in front of Ultra Magnus, so they seem even more outstanding when they have the work done quickly and perfect.

It's good to have friends in the medical practices, even if Ratchet was awfully grumbly and grumpy about agreeing to do mods on them for reduced prices. It helped that his femme had been around at the time and had cuffed his helmet when he'd suggested charging them _double_ because they were 'royal pains in the aft.' He'd had pink paint all over him at the time.

Arcee was apparently very vigorous in the berth.

They report in, and are incredibly excited when they see their desk.

Until they see there is only _one_ chair.

Exchanging a look, they both agree this must be some kind of test, and Orion sits in the chair while Optimus looks through the various datapads they need to work on. It really is essentially busywork. Optimus shrugs and hands them to Orion, "Want me to do the running around this sol, and we switch off? Since that does seem to be what we're expected to do."

/_It hardly seems professional for our mentor to not even meet us. We're not early, are we?_/ Orion takes the datapads, "If we can find a list of errands for you, that sounds like a plan to me." /_Unless Ultra wants one of us on his lap so he can play with our spark while he works._/

Optimus shivers a bit, "You look through those datapads, and I'll see if he's in his office yet." /_If he wants a lapbot to overload, I volunteer to be first._/

Orion nods, waving a servo to send him off. /_Go have fun. Tell him that we're both happy to join in next time if he does._/

He takes off, making it to the Magnus's office easily, and knocking on the door. There's the sound of unlocking and a call of, "Come in."

Stepping in to the office, Optimus stands at attention, "We've come to report in, sir. Was there anything specific you'd like us to do?" He moves so that the _tiny_ amount of metal flake they put in their sparkplate seams flash, since the plates are already blue, they didn't even have to get the colored flake.

Ultra Magnus's optics flick down over his frame and then back up to his optics, "Optimus, am I correct?"

Optimus shakes his head. Bots always have a fifty-percent chance of guessing them correctly, but that doesn't mean the twins are honest about it. "No, sir. Optimus is working on the datapads you left on our desk." With the single chair. Does the Magnus expect them to share it?

Ultra Magnus stares at him for a long klik before returning to the datapad he was writing on. "Lying is unbecoming of an officer, Optimus. Please refrain from it in my presence."

He tilts his head, "I'll be sure to inform Orion, sir." He moves slightly, "But we really do need to know what exactly you want us to do. There is nothing informing us what our job entails on the desk."

The Magnus glances up at him, "Organize the datapads, answer the console, arrange appointments. Easy enough. Especially since there are two of you."

Optimus keeps from frowning, he isn't sure if he's _supposed_ to ask this or not, but he may as well do it now, when he already looks foolish. "Are we supposed to sit in the single chair that is there?"

"I have never required more than one secretarybot at once," Ultra says calmly. "I assume you two can trade off days. I'm sure you have many things you could be doing with that extra time."

Optimus frowns. "No, sir. Forgive me for saying this, but you are supposed to be our mentor for the next vorn. It is unfair to all of us to expect us to be content with a half-vorn each." Not to mention how much harder it would be to seduce the Magnus if they were forced to see him separately.

Ultra Magnus looks at him over the datapad, "I'm just fine with one of you. I was told I had to take you both, when I hadn't asked for either."

Optimus can almost feel his spark get smashed, the Magnus was only looking at them because he _had_ to at the ceremony. He tries to keep the hurt out of his voice, "Yes, sir."

The larger bot returns to the datapad, "If you must, you can get another chair to share the desk. I expect an exemplary job since you're doing a single bot's job."

/_Optimus, are you alright? Why does your spark hurt?_/

Optimus shoves his link with his brother to the background so he can force a neutral expression for the Magnus. "Yes, sir. You can expect the best from us."

"I expect the best from every Autobot under my command," Ultra says, offering a datapad to Optimus. "You can begin by filing this. I would appreciate if you were to inspect the filing offices as well, as I suspect they are sorely out of order. Since you insist on remaining here, you should consider reorganizing them."

He gives off a sharp salute, "Yes, sir." Stepping out the door, he puts a servo over his plates for a moment, trying not to rub them to soothe the pain of his disappointment. /_Orion, he doesn't even WANT us. He said that he had to take us._/

He can feel the answering pain from his twin's spark, /_He... he doesn't?_/

He starts to look through the datapad, just a general report on the assignments for various Primes. /_He didn't even look at my sparkplates or anything, just gave me the coldest look possible. Don't pull the pretending to be me trick on him, either. He saw right through it._/

His twin pauses before answering, /_Isn't that a good thing, though? He cares enough to be able to tell us apart. No one did that since before Papas Steelbolt and Powerdrive._/

He starts walking down to the filing system, /_Or he studied our pictures and videos of us to not look __foolish._/

/_Do you want me to spit in his energon? I will if you want._/

Optimus smiles a little, against his will. /_No, Orion. Don't spit in the MAGNUS'S energon. Have a little more class than that._/ He stops in horror. /_Holy slag, Orion. I think I'm going to be down here the entire fragging VORN. This place is a mess._/

Datapads are stacked haphazardly on every surface, and most of the ones in the back are completely inaccessible. There's a thick layer of dust on every surface except for the current precarious towers of datapads that are stacked near the entrance. It's a nightmare.

/_Where are you?_/

He moves through the place as he responds, /_He told me to organize the filing. I don't think he'll see me AT ALL after this._/

He can tell Orion is scowling in the reply, /_Well, we came here to impress him, so we'll just have to show up on our sols off just to work on it. We'll have each other as we work, and it will make it easier for us in the long run. We want him to think we're miracle workers, and we can do it. It will just be harder than we first thought it would be._/

/_I don't think you understand how BAD it is down here,_/ Optimus groans, setting his datapad down. He doesn't have any idea where to begin. Half of the storage shelves and containers look like they're about to fall off the walls and crumple in on themselves under the weight of the pads on them and the extreme age of the materials. /_Here, let me send you an image capture._/

He takes a few close ups of the worst parts-a shelf that appears to have fallen off and been put back on the wall upside down; a box labeled in ancient Cybertronian for some kind of delivery service that's stacked full of dusty datapads; several towers of pads that are on the verge of collapse, the weight of the other towers the only thing holding them up. He sweeps his optics along the entire room, doing a quick video capture as well, and sends them all to his brother. /_Look at how slagging AWFUL it is._/

He can feel the despair from Orion, /_I'll head down after you get started, and we can switch off every megacycle or so. That will keep it from being too bad, and we can get it done quicker that way._/

He nods unhappily, knowing his twin can feel his acceptance, and gets started.

* * *

**Please Review**

Okay everyone! 8D New fic again! Yeah! Updating daily, of course. Only nine chapters for this one. I hope you guys like it :3

I do hope that you guys review, too. I know that it normally gets ignored in favor of going straight to the next fic, but we love hearing from you! Optimus' Girl reviews every time, and we are always glad to see it. We will be so happy to see your review o3o


	2. Chapter 2

Transformers belongs to Hasbro

* * *

At the end of their shift, they're both very tired. They _could_ go home, but the apartment they rented is little more than a bad berth and a tiny box of a room to recharge in. They look at each other as they sit at the desk, and debate back and forth on what to do. Orion looks at the console, /_If we go back, Sentinel or Elita may take us out to celebrate._/

Optimus shrugs, looking through the datapads, /_Or they're both goofing off with each other, and we'll only be able to see the breaking walls of our cheap apartment._/

/_We could com them before? I bet they'll agree to take us out then._/ Elita-1 and Sentinel both come from wealthy families, and they can afford to treat their friends to a little highgrade and sweets now and then. Frag. Both of the bots get an _allowance_ for them to spend on such trivialities.

/_Maybe._/ Optimus gives up on the datapads for now. /_I can't get any more of this organized this sol. I'm going to go insane. Most of these pads aren't even labeled, and I have to open them up and manually check the contents._/ He shoves the pads into his subspace. He'll put them back in the storage room tomorrow.

Orion sighs, /_Want to go tell Ultra Magnus goodbye together? Drive home the point that we're both working for him?_/

Optimus smiles, holding out his servo to his twin, /_I think we should. He needs to know that we're not going to give up just because we're tired._/

Orion leans his head against Optimus, and they walk to Ultra, servo in servo. When they get there, Orion knocks on the door, and there's a soft invitation. They both want to walk all the way in, but are pretty sure that would be unprofessional. Instead they look in at him from the door, chorusing, "The work day is over, sir. You should head home."

"I will go after I finish this report," Ultra says, not taking his optics off the datapad he's working on.

They exchange a glance, and both step into the room. "Sorry, sir, but all the other bots in the building are gone except for the security staff and your private guards. You're keeping them late, and you won't be working at maximum efficiency if you work too late each sol."

Ultra gives Orion an irritated glance. "Very well." He places the pad on the table, face-down. "I was not expecting my new secretarybots to be so very irritating."

They exchange a hurt look, but don't say anything. They stay several paces back when Ultra starts to walk out of room, following him out unhappily. /_Do you think he means it?_/

Optimus gives a tiny shrug, /_I don't know. He really seems to dislike us, but that may just be him getting used to us being here._/

Orion looks at the floor, and they wait patiently for Ultra to leave the building before cautiously following the larger mech out. /_I hope he does like us soon. Our plans to be with him won't work if he hates us._/

Optimus leans his head on his brother's as they start to walk home. /_He'll like us. We just have to prove that we're going to be wonderful at the job we're given._/

/_And if he doesn't, then he's not the mech we're going to bond our sparks to,_/ Orion insists, linking servos with Optimus. They'd decided long ago, watching all the vids with Ultra Magnus in them, reading about him, and finally getting to see him in person at the Academy, that they were going to bond with him some sol. If he turned out to be a horrible bot in private then they were going to have to re-evaluate their decision.

They kiss, a tiny press of the lips, holding each other a little closer, /_We just have to give it time. If he's still horrible by the end of the vorn, all we did was waste a vorn. We can use the fact that we did a fantastic job to help us later._/

Orion nods in agreement, then gives Optimus a playful smile. /_Wanna race home?_/

Optimus's optics light up in delight. /_Thought you'd never ask._/

* * *

It's a half-decacyle later when they make their best discovery thus far. It was Orion's turn in the datapad storage that sol, and he'd spent most of it carefully indexing datapads, labeling them clearly so they'll have an easier time putting them away after they clear out the space for them. Bots really _had_ just been tossing datapads in this room, letting them get 'filed' wherever they happened to land.

He was dreading when they would reach the point where they had to deal with the ancient, formal pads that were written in Ancient Cybertronian. Neither twin was very good at the language, but they'll try their hardest to learn it.

Orion yawns, looking at a few more before Optimus tells him it's time to tell Ultra to go _home_. He shakes his head, /_You can do it by yourself, I want to finish this. Tell him goodnight and say that you have to get me or something. I want to get this bit finished._/

Optimus sends an acceptance, and Orion gets back to work.

The next thing he knows, Optimus is shaking him awake from the floor, giving him a concerned look. /_You okay? Sorry I took so long, but the Magnus INSISTED that he get a few more pads done, and I had to help him get them finished._/

Orion stretches, rubbing his optics sleepily. "I'm fine. You shouldn't let him bully you into doing more work." He glances at the chronometer on the wall, and his optics widen. "Slag. It's _really_ late. Why didn't any securitybots wake me up?"

Optimus sits beside him, pulling Orion into his arms. "I'm not sure they even come down this far."

Orion cuddles up to his twin, still horribly tired, "Maybe we can recharge _here_, rather than at our apartment. We wouldn't have to get up so early, and it wouldn't have the glitchmouse infestation. I always online worried we'll find a cyberrat staring at us. ... again."

Optimus shudders, "That was _horrible_. It looked like it wanted to see if we were edible. I hate our apartment."

They cuddle a little closer, "If we tell the landlord that we aren't going back before the end of the decacycle, we'll get our deposit back entirely, and won't have to pay an entire three-decaycle block of rent."

It would be nice to have an extra source of credits available to them. Optimus had been worried that they would need to do something drastic like sell their sparks to earn enough to keep all their bills paid. Until they were caught-which was inevitable, since a securitybot would _eventually_ pass through, even if only on a whim-they could save the credits and maybe even use a little to buy an occasional sweet to share.

Optimus hums softly, "Tomorrow is one of our sols off. We can do it all then, and make it back here pretty easily."

Orion frowns, "What about our plan to _always_ send Ultra off at night?"

"He can think that he scared us off this sol by insisting I help with the pads. Since we're doing this, we can both do that next time, and get it done even faster."

Orion nods slowly in thought. "Yeah. He never looks back at us when he leaves, so I don't think he'll even notice that we're not following him out each night." The Magnus was backlogged with work, and they had decided it was one of their goals to help him get caught up. "We'll work on both things at once. Maybe come in to work on sols off. If we keep one of us at the desk and alternate, and sometimes only get him to leave at night with one of us, he may think we're trading off work days like he suggested."

Optimus rubs his optics tiredly, "Let's head back to the apartment, go recharge, and fix everything up when we're rested."

Orion nods, standing up, and pulling Optimus up with him. "We'll be the best bots _ever_, and he won't know what he did without us."

They hold each other tightly as they walk out of the room, heading to the exit of the building. /_We can do this._/

They don't race home that sol. Neither of them has the spare energy or willpower to race the way they do, sliding their sides against one another, teasingly bumping sensitive parts while they jockey for position. They transform down and go at a more sedate pace, staying side-by-side the entire way home, even when a pretty femme racecar pulls up alongside them and tries to interest them in a 'face.

When they get home, they ignore the crumbling walls and cracks in the stairs as they make their way up to the one room apartment they share. Optimus just opens the door, since the lock doesn't even work, and you just have to force it open. They ignore the hole in the floor, avoiding it out of memory, since the first time Orion put his ped in it was more than enough for the both of them. They curl up together on the berth that is almost falling apart, and drop into recharge instantly.

* * *

They online to the loud, insistent wails of the sparkling of the couple that share the room next to them, and the twins curl closer together on the dilapidated berth. /_Do you want to talk to the landlord, or should I?_/ Orion asks, rubbing his sparkplates against his brother's, wondering if he has enough energy for a morning 'face.

Optimus cuddles against his twin, putting their servos between them reluctantly, /_I think we both should. Let's gather what little we have here, then tell him we're leaving. He'll be glad that he can get rid of us, rather than taking our reduced rent because we're academy students._/

Orion sits up, "I guess." They both get out of the berth, and search around the room for what they have stashed. There isn't much, since they kept most of it in their subspaces, but they pull out the few toys they normally kept hidden from their sparklinghood, and a tiny amount of credits just in case. Orion looks around, "Think we got it all?"

"If we didn't, then it's not something important enough to remember." Optimus links servos with him and they walk down one floor to the landlord's apartment. He lives directly beneath them, in a much nicer apartment. They knock-the place doesn't have door chimes-and wait patiently.

Their landlord is a slender model done up in silvers and blues, though his paint is quite faded from neglect. "What d'ya want?" He narrows his blue optics, staring at their sparkplates rather than their faces. "I already told ya that I don't know how to fix that hole in yer room."

They speak in tandem, "We're here to tell you we're moving out."

The mech actually looks in their faces for that, "Are ya _really_? I woulda thought ya were stayin' ferever."

They hold their servos a little tighter, "We have the rent for the half decacycle we used, and would like our deposit back." They're glad now that the mech had insisted they weren't allowed a lease contract and complained loudly about how much money he was losing because of them. It makes it easier to just cut and run.

"I ain't givin' you the full deposit back. You get half, just like we agreed on," the mech turns and pulls out a credit transfer pad. "There. Half of yer credits back." They're going to protest, but the mech turns a leer in their direction. "Gonna miss havin' you upstairs. You two make a lot of noise when you're playin' with each other."

Orion shudders, feeling his brother twitch with disgust as well. "Thank you. We don't plan on coming back to visit." He takes the pad, not bothering to hide his own disgust when the landlord fondles his servo before letting go of the datapad.

They turn, and head out. Optimus murmurs softly when they're out of audio range, "And that would be why he refused to fix the hole. I'm glad we were only there for a little while. I'd have hated to find that out _after_ our vorn with the Magnus was up."

Orion nods, "Now we just need to get a fold out berth, and possibly get Sentinel to spring for energon for us. He'll demand we 'face him, but we'll be able to slip several cubes in our subspace while he's distracted."

With their plan in place, they drive into the much nicer parts of town to secure themselves a fold-out berth. They want a place nice enough that the owner will agree to hold the berth for them until they can come pick it up later that sol. Or have one that folds up small enough for subspace storage. Then they're going to go get utterly smashed with Sentinel and stock up on energon.

* * *

They head straight to work the next day, processors aching a little bit from how overcharged they were, but Orion sits at the desk posing like he was _made_ to be there, while Optimus goes to hide among the datastacks.

It is several breems later when Ultra Magnus comes in. The large mech takes one look at the twin at the desk and scowls, "Not only do you come in on your sol off, you're here with a hangover. Go _home_."

Orion looks up at Ultra with an innocent smile, wondering how the frag the Magnus could even _tell_ he has a hungover when no one else picked up on it, "We're making full use of our vorn here, sir. You can't expect us to make due with less just because you expect twins to do the work of one bot."

Ultra Magnus stares at him silently, scrutinizing him. "Two sols each decacycle, I do not want _either_ of you here working. You're still in training, and you will take time off. Time off spent together, so you do not think you can simply alternate work days and have that count."

Two sols each decacycle they'd be working on the pad storage together, or out with Sentinel and Elita, soaking up as much free fuel as possible. They know Elita-1 likes to have them sit at her peds while she feeds them sweets from her claws. Especially if they go to her favorite femme bar.

He looks down demurely, "If that's what you want, Ultra Magnus, sir." He messages his brother, /_Ultra wants us to take sols off, and if I didn't know better I'd say he squirming when I pull the innocent act._/

/_Good squirm or bad?_/

Orion looks up at Ultra with wide innocent optics, and the mech straightens up to say, "I don't want you overworking," before heading to his office.

/_I have no clue._/

/_Probably good, then. We'll break through his barrier eventually, and then we'll get to enjoy all the overloads with him that we want._/ Optimus looks around the storage room, trying to find a good place for them to set up their berth at night. If they can get that back corner nook cleared out, they should be able to leave it out, which is good.

Even though it folds up to fit in subspace, it is awkward and vaguely uncomfortable to carry it around that way. The back nook is hidden from view, and they should be able to keep their berth there after they get it free of old pads and dust.

He starts to clear it out, /_Found a place for the berth. I'm glad no one but us goes back this far in the stacks._/

Orion makes a face, /_I hate how some of the bots seem to think that we're free game when we're down there, though. At least they don't try anything other than groping our afts halfsparkedly, and they just leave the datapads in the box we marked._/

That 'to be sorted' box was one of their better ideas. It kept the bots away from what they're fixing, and meant fewer interruptions all together.

It amused Optimus that most bots assumed they had been hired as librarians. Apparently the Magnus went through secretarybots faster than Swindle went through credits, and no bots ever bothered to keep track of which bots were acting as his secretaries at the time.

It was slagging irritating having to smooth dents out of his aft every time he went up at the end of the sol to usher the Magnus out of his office.

Optimus starts to work through the various pads that he can find in Cybertronion, not wanting to deal with the ancient dialect until they have to. /_Going to go act innocent and pretty for Ultra when you get him the energon for this solar cycle?_/

Orion must be busy because it takes him a little longer than normal to respond, /_I was thinking we BOTH could do that this sol. We can ask him what days he wants us to both take off, so that we're not putting him off schedule if he needs us. We can hold hands and act a little younger than we are._/

/_Not too much younger, or it might turn him off. We just want him thinking we're sweet and corruptible. That he can spread us out on his berth and teach us how to pleasure his spark the right way._/ Optimus shivers, rubbing his sparkplates absently.

/_Oh, slag it, Optimus, don't make me think about that right now. He wants me to go with him to a Council meeting to take notes. I don't want to frag it up because I'm imagining him bending me over his lap to spank my aft because I wasn't paying attention._/

Standing up straight, he blinks in surprise, /_Should I hurry up so I'm at the desk then?_/

/_That would be a good idea, I'm gathering up a few datapads, and going to be hurrying after him. I don't think you should interrupt me as I do this._/

Optimus nods, grabbing a few of the datapads in ancient Cycbertronion he needs to try to decode, and heads on up. He manages to avoid _some_ of the servos groping him, but there are a few that are just too fast. He makes it to the desk fairly quickly, and settles in to do deskwork.

They've done similar work before, for some of their past mentors. Of course, most of those positions were very low-level ones, working in starting positions. Neither of them had really believed they would be delegated to the role of secretarybot when they were spending time with Ultra Magnus himself.

Not that he's complaining. It's an honor to work with the mech, even if he's proving to be more of a fragger than they'd anticipated.

Speaking of fraggers, there's a call on the com. Optimus keeps a smile on his face as he answers it, "Hello, Starscream. Did you have anything you wanted me to pass on to the Magnus?"

The seeker glares at him, "No, Orion. I'm just here to tell you that Megatron wants to talk to Ultra. I don't know why he doesn't have a secretarybot like you to do this sort of thing, rather than pull _me_ into this."

He loves how the Decepticons seem to think that him and his brother are the same bot, it makes it all the more entertaining for him. "I'm sorry, sir, but Ultra Magnus is at a council meeting. I can com you when he returns if you'd like."

"No. I'm sure you'll be able to meet his needs just fine." The seeker taps a few buttons and it transfers his call to Megatron's desk. Optimus straightens a bit and smiles at the Decepticon leader.

"How can I help you this sol, Lord Megatron?"

Megatron's optics slip over his frame, enjoying his shape. "I see that you have been fondled by your fellow workers again?" Optimus shifts a little, showing off for the other bot.

"No, sir. Was there something you needed of the Magnus?" Optimus tries to maintain his professionalism, even in the face of Megatron's obvious desire. It would be a terrible idea to fantasize about having Megatron _and_ Ultra Magnus in the berth at the same time.

After another klik of observation, Megatron nods. "Yes. I need to schedule a group vid call within the next decacycle. Please find and schedule a time that will work for all of the bots on this list." A file appears on his console. "Send the schedule to delegates Shockwave and Longarm when you have it completed."

Optimus disconnects the call with a friendly goodbye and a promise that he will do as asked, and begins the long and arduous task of getting in contact with the secretarybots of the dozen or so mechs Megatron wants to group vid call with.

The most amusing schedule he receives in response is from Cliffjumper, who had given him a harried and exhausted look when he'd informed him of his need. Cliffjumper is . . . not a typical secretarybot. The schedule consists of items listed as:

_0600: Arrive at work to clean up Shockwave's mess_

_0630: Get Shockwave and Longarm's energon_

_0645: Avoid claws while offering energon_

_0730: Clean paint off of sparkplates_

_0800: Give schedule of daily tasks and meetings to Longarm, avoid groping servos_

_0823: Clean paint off of sparkplates_

-and so on and so forth. Optimus wonders where the bot gets the energy to 'face so many times during a single sol, and wishes that _Ultra_ would do that to him and his brother.

He manages to find a spot that works for everyone with a bit of juggling, and by the time he's finished, Orion and Ultra come back in. The Magnus looks at him in confusion before frowning, "Why are you here as well? You should be off having fun or whatever it is you do."

He tests that looking innocent theory, and blinks at Ultra with wide optics. "I just thought we'd need someone at the desk, sir." The mech looks slightly uncomfortable, and it is the way that shows interest and not true discomfort. Gently pushing the datapad to Ultra, he drops his optics to the top of the desk, murmuring softly, "Lord Megatron wanted me to schedule a vidcall with you and several other bots. All the information is on the pad. I can go over it with you if you want while Orion returns to work."

Ultra gives him a slightly blank look before taking the datapad from him. "No, that's not needed. I can read it on my own. If I need an explanation, I'm sure I can contact you."

He looks up at Ultra from under the brim of his helmet, "Yes, sir."

/_Think you might be overdoin' it a bit, bro,_/ Orion warns him, and Optimus lifts his gaze enough to meet Ultra's optics.

The Magnus gazes back at him for a long klik before finally retreating into his office. /_I think we'll have his spark available for our use before the vorn is over._/

Orion smirks, /_I think we'll have his spark available before the STELLAR CYCLE is over._/

/_Want to place a bet?_/

Bets with his brother always led to amazing interfacing acts that left both bots panting for air, their fans working triple-time to cool their frames down. /_You know I do._/

Orion leans over the desk to kiss him, sealing the deal, and Optimus stands up reluctantly, "I'll go back to the storage area. Do you think there are more than just that room?"

Orion sits in the chair, making a disgusted face, "I hope not. We're not even a fraction of the way finished. That whole place is a labyrinth."

Optimus sighs, and heads down the hall, /_I hope we get it done sooner than the vorn. If we weren't working together on this, it would take that long._/

Orion nods, /_If there weren't two of us, one to do this job, and one to do THAT we'd never get it done. Not with how everyone seems to keep interrupting us when we're up here. We can't even go through with our plans on talking about mods._/

/_We'll do it eventually, softspark._/ Optimus would love to rush back and kiss his brother, but the pads won't organize themselves.

Not without more sentience than he can put into the tiny storage of a datapad.

Self-filing datapads would be a magnificent invention, and Optimus files the idea in the back of his processor for later. Until then, he has work to do. Work that doesn't involve licking his brother's spark while Ultra Magnus watches them with envy before giving in and joining.

* * *

Please Review

Hello, everyone! This fic has no porn in it, and I won't have to cut out anything for you to read it all the way through. I'm just going to tell you all that I actually have fics in my masterlist on my livejournal that are _not_ posted here on ffdotnet! You can go check that out if you want to. I'd love it if you would leave a review on them or this!


	3. Chapter 3

Transformers belongs to Hasbro

* * *

It is about a decycycle later, when both Orion and Optimus are in Ultra's office and cleaning it up in the most distracting way they can, the the Magnus asks softly, "Has... has my staff been taking advantage of you two?"

They stop leaning over to pick up the datapads they 'accidentally' spilled, and look at each other in confusion. "Sir?"

The Magnus offlines his optics to point at Orion, "You have _finger dents_ in your frame." Orion was working in the datapads, so Optimus isn't the least bit surprised to see that's true. He's happy the mech noticed, it means Ultra was looking at their afts, just like they'd set out for him to do. "Have they been doing this the entire time you've been here?"

Optimus shrugs, helping his brother organize the datapads. "It varies from sol to sol. Some sols there are many bots who want a little grope, and some sols there are very few. We've gotten better at dodging them." He flashes a tiny smile. "It's no worse than some of the previous jobs we've had."

Ultra, on the other servo, does _not_ look happy at all. In fact, he looks _furious_. "You shouldn't have to put up with such inappropriate behavior in the workplace." He sits down at his desk and begins to compose a memo. "I will inform bots to cease any and all harassment of you two at once."

Orion glances over at Optimus, /_If he sends out a 'don't touch these bots' memo, everyone is going to assume he's fragging us himself. Do you think he realizes that?_/

Optimus gives a tiny shrug that is unnoticeable to anyone but his brother, /_I can't really tell. I just hope this means he WILL frag us. Preferably over his desk._/

Orion's optics flash over to it before returning to Optimus, /_I hope so, too._/

They both look at Ultra scribbling on a datapad, and slowly creep forward to lean on his desk, sparkplates artfully posed so the mech can't help but look at them. "Sir? Are you sure?"

Ultra's optics glance at their plates, but go firmly to their faces, "That sort of behavior is absolutely intolerable. I won't allow it."

They both move so they're just barely sitting on the desk, a careful invitation to shove them on top of it to have their sparks used. "You don't have to, sir, we're used to it."

"It doesn't matter if you are _used_ to being harassed. It is always, _always_ wrong." Ultra Magnus slams his fist on the tabletop. "I will _not_ tolerate _my_ secretarybots being groped like, like-" he trails off, forcing himself to calm down. "If you experience any more harassment, you will report it to me, or to another commanding officer immediately. Do you understand?"

They hold each other close, blinking up at Ultra innocently, "Yes, Ultra Magnus, sir."

The mech points at the door, "Get back to work. I can clean up the datapads myself."

They reluctantly get off his desk, holding their servos as they back away, "Are you sure, sir? We don't mind cleaning it up, since we're the ones that dropped them."

The mech rubs his optics while jabbing his finger at the door, "Just go. Take the rest of the sol off as paid vacation. Just _go_."

They head out of the door, looking at each other in confusion. Optimus raises an optic ridge, /_Did he forget that today is technically one of the days we aren't even supposed to be here?_/

It seems that finding out that his precious secretarybots were being groped and fondled was enough to make Ultra fly into a rage. That was good news for them. Not so good for the bots who enjoyed fondling them. /_It depends, I suppose. He probably doesn't remember it at all. D'you wanna bum some energon off of Sentinel, or work on the datapads?_/

/_Oh, slag, do you even need to ask? That sweet shop on Fourth and Bolt just opened up a few sols ago. I want to find out what their energon bars taste like._/ Optimus _loves_ sweets.

They both giggle softly to each other, and take off from the building.

* * *

It is several decacycles later, and their long schedule they have set out for themselves is slowly catching up to them. Orion is in the datastacks, muttering softly in ancient Cyrbertronion as he sorts through them, while Optimus is staring a little blankly at the console screen.

He's glad that the announcement to stop harassing them actually brought down the workload. It seems that quite a few bots were only showing up with things for the excuse to see the pretty secretarybot on duty, and the lack of them means that they get the work done in a fraction of the time that they took before. Optimus is still very tired, since they've been working long into the night to get _done_ with the fragging datapads. They're almost to the very back of the last room, and Orion is pretty sure they'll be there before the worksol is over. They look forward to it.

They still aren't very good at the language, but they've been working on obtaining some level of mastery because they _have_ to in order to organize the ancient datapads. Of course, they could care less about the bots who might try to read them later on. Optimus and Orion are _not_ going to translate the cursed things. Bad enough that they have to read the fragging pads to affix the proper descriptive label and determine a place for it.

He's partway through working on a scheduling error when Orion starts to curse in ancient cybertron. He knows better than to get his brother out of that mindset, or it will just be even harder to get the datapads done. Putting a servo to his temple, he responds, "_Is something wrong? Do you need me to come down and help?_"

Orion curses again, louder this time, "_There are two stairways here in the back, they were hidden behind a large stack of boxes, and behind a closed door in the corner._"

He groans, dropping his head on the desk, "_Don't tell me, they lead to more datapads, don't they?_"

"_Entirely filled. I wouldn't be surprised if most of these were since BEFORE Ultra showed up. I bet that they're in even harder to understand dialects then the ones we've been using_."

Optimus groans louder, slamming an open servo on his desktop, "_Spikesucking son of a whorebot!_"

"Optimus?" Ultra's quiet, inquisitive voice interrupts his cursing, and Optimus flushes, hoping desperately that Ultra Magnus is not familiar with that dialect of Ancient. "Is everything alright?"

He ducks his head, "Yes, sir. I was," he hunts for something to claim as the reason for his upset, "upset with the console. It ate one of my files."

Ultra steps a little closer, looking highly curious, "Enough to accuse it of licking ancient 'facing mods and having a prostibot of a creator?"

Optimus can not help the blush that spreads across his faceplates, "... yes?" He wasn't actually aware that a spike was a 'facing mod, but it makes sense. He wishes he knew why the pads have various insults sprinkled on them as commentary, but he never cared enough to actually look into it.

Ultra raises an optic ridge, "How well do you speak ancient Cybertronion?"

"Passably well," he smiles innocently. "Orion and I study it a bit outside of the required lessons for classes, but we haven't obtained anything like a mastery of it. It's still mostly foreign to us."

The mech steps closer, "I have a spare ticket to a Sandokan inspired play later this stellar cycle, if you would care to join me. They speak a common ancient dialect, and hearing it spoken would help with your pronunciation." The corners of the mech's mouth quirk up. "You are butchering your glossal hisses."

He looks down at the desk, blushing faintly, "Only one ticket, sir?" He ignores his brother's yelling at him not to ask and just _take_ the date for Primus's sake, and taps his fingers together.

Ultra shifts slightly, "Well, if you can't go without your brother, I suppose he could have my ticket."

Optimus gives the mech a horrified look, "No, sir! We wouldn't dream of doing that. We'd be absolutely lost as we watch it. It would be better if only one of us goes with you."

The Magnus looks uncomfortable, "But it really isn't fair just to bring one of you. I'm sure you'll both have a better time without an old mech being in your way."

"No, sir," Optimus protests once more. "We could not possibly dream of depriving you of your ticket." He lowers his gaze, "Perhaps the director would be willing to offer you another ticket? Then we could all visit and you could help explain what was going on when the language goes beyond our grasp?"

Ultra looks at him closely, then turns away, "I'll see what I can do, Optimus. If I can't, I want you both to go without me. I'm sure you don't _need_ me there at all."

He looks down at the desk, "We'd love for you to be there, and would rather you go instead."

The Magnus moves away, "We'll see, Optimus."

When the mech is back in his office, Optimus is almost bouncing for joy. _Of course_ the Magnus will be able to get an extra ticket. He's beaming as he sends a message to his twin, /_We're going to go on a date with Ultraaaaaaa!_/

/_I heard! Oh primus, we're going to have to make ourselves gorgeous. We need to save up as many credits as possible so we can get fresh paintjobs. Do you think we'll be able to do it?_/

/_If we cut back on our energon rations and only use the free ones we get here then we should be able to get them done in time. And we might even have a good portion of the other pad rooms finished by then. Since they're behind closed door, we would have a better, more private place to recharge at night._/

/_Too bad that cutting our energon intake means we won't have the energy to 'face just each other. We're going to have to exploit Sentinel and Elita every single sol we have off._/

Optimus makes a face at the computer, /_They're going to think we're their trained berthbots if we do that._/

He can feel Orion's matching revulsion, /_It will be worth it once we get the date. Nothing too bad will happen, since the most they'll do is demand that we let them servo feed us._/ There's a tiny pause, and Orion adds hesitantly, /_Right?_/

Optimus bites his lower lip, then nods firmly, /_We CAN. We'll do this, and we'll be fine._/

* * *

It wasn't every sol that Megatron and his private retinue arrived on Cybertron for negotiations. The twins were quite lucky that they had managed to soften Ultra up enough that he allowed them to stand at his side when Megatron's ship docked at the embassy port. They were so looking forward to surprising the larger mech with the fact that they were _twins_. That he had been speaking to both Optimus and Orion for decacycles now without being aware of it.

They've both polished themselves up pretty-they can't afford their new paint yet, but there's decent free polish in the washrack that no other bots use across from the pad storage. Optimus and Orion had made sure their plates were practically sparkling. There was a rumor that Megatron was bringing Starscream along, and if that were true, they wanted to look their best.

Seekers were notoriously picky about appearances.

When Megatron walks in, he's flanked by three other bots. Lugnut and Blitzwing both look fairly interested in what's going on around the area they're in, but it is Starcream that looks at them intensely. They're slightly surprised the mech doesn't say anything as he looks between them with blatant lust in his optics. It is possibly because of that interest that Megatron looks at them both and comments, "No one told me that you were twins, Orion."

Ultra cuts in, sounding amused, "You're talking to Optimus, actually. Orion is to your right."

They both flicker their optics prettily, talking at the same time, "We answer to either, sir."

"Are you like Reflector?" Blitzwing asks, his face flipping to Random to cackle, "You look so delicious! If we overload one of your sparks, will ze ozer one overload at ze same time?"

Megatron turns to face his general. "That is not an appropriate question to ask right now, Blitzwing. Please do make an attempt to stay Icy." He faces the twins again, "I apologize for his question. Do not feel obligated to answer." But his optics are like two hot coals, burning deep and red with desire, and the twins _like_ that.

Orion shuffles his peds, pretending mock-shyness. "I don't think we should say-"

"-because it's not appropriate at all," Optimus finishes for him, shifting to better display their pretty blue chestplates. The chestplates they had discovered were far more interesting than either had assumed. One sol, they'd fiddled with the metal backings on the plates and discovered they could be _removed_, or altered so they could retract and bare their sparks through the clear blue glass.

It was absolutely wonderful to do while Sentinel just stood there and stared. They had enough extra energon for the next decacycle, and not be on the half rations. Sadly, they have long since run out of that.

Megatron looks down at them with dim optics, "Well, you answered that." The mech looks back up at Ultra, "Are they going to be joining us, or is this just going to be one of the usual meetings?"

The Magnus gives the bot a dirty look, "We aren't going to change into something more Decepticon themed just because you found out my secretarybots are twins."

Both twins have to fight the revs their engines want to make. Decepticon meetings tend to involve far more overloads, and it sounds as if Megatron wishes to share them with his mechs. Their sparks would be so sore afterwards, from having so many large sparks overloading against them again and again as they were passed between bots.

As arousing as the thought of it may be, it is _not_ proper Autobot behavior, especially at a treaty meeting. The very best they could hope for is an invitation to Megatron's private quarters _after_. If they get such an invitation, they won't be turning it down.

Ultra shatters their hopes with a command, "Optimus and Orion have work to do tonight that will keep them occupied the entire length of your visit. I do hope you don't interrupt their efforts."

That explains why they got told that they're not going to be working at the desk, and will be allowed to work all decacycle down in the datapad stacks. They were looking forward to it since it meant more recharge and not getting interrupted, but now they wish that they hadn't _told_ Ultra that they were happy they got it.

They keep the disappointed looks off their faces with effort, and Blitzwing looks faintly disappointed while Starscream looks irritated. Megatron's voice is amused as he answers, "I wouldn't dream of it, Ultra. Shall we get this started?"

At least they are being allowed to watch the meeting and take notes, even if they aren't going to be allowed to rub sparks with any bot during it. They follow Ultra Magnus into the embassy council chamber where the meeting is to take place. A number of other Autobots and their mentored Academy bots are present, and Optimus decides that perhaps it _was_ a good thing that they wouldn't be serving as berthbots here.

They spot Elita-1 standing next to Botanica, and carefully do nothing more than glance at her. They know she'll do _something_ to prove they're _her_ mechs, and shouldn't be touched. That will just ruin all of their plans with Ultra.

This isn't the first time Optimus has been in the council chamber to take notes, Ultra grabs whichever of them is there when he goes now, and that's much better than not being taken at all. They sit next to him in the designated area, quietly cheering to each other that Ultra gave them _both_ a seat. Normally they have to stand, and deal with their peds hurting when they return. He is either trying to show them off, or warning the Decepticons away from them.

Possibly both. Having them sit _beside_ him, rather than at the base of the pedestal where secretarybots normally sit is putting a _claim_ on them. It's where his _consorts_ would sit.

With this in mind, they both sit up straight and at attention, refusing to shame Ultra or make him regret placing them in such an important position. He may want nothing more than some support while he tries to wrangle concessions out of Megatron, but they will give him their best.

They spend most of the time while taking notes bored out of their processors. They get that this is _needed_, but they really wish that they could be down in the datapads and organizing it. Which is saying a lot, since they got into some of the more difficult to decrypt datapads already. It takes them a megacycle to read even one most of the time. Maybe the next meeting will allow them to just be there one at a time like normal.

When the council treaty meeting adjourns for the sol, they head straight back to the Autobot Headquarters to actually _work_. It isn't like it stopped just because Megatron showed up.

They glance over the desk, and are pleased to see that their stand in really _did_ work, and didn't just goof off. They'll be checking every night, but that means they won't have to deal with splitting in two to do the organizing of datapads. Heading down, they get to work.

* * *

Autobot treaty negotiations were possibly the most tedious and processor-numbing of all negotiations. At least neutrals respected their culture and allowed the Decepticons to have sparkwarmers with them, to break up the long, tedious meetings and make them less of a nightmare to get through.

The Autobots had two perfect little sparkwarmers available as well, even if they were refusing to share them. The twins-the clever little bots that had fooled him and Starscream-would have looked divine beneath them, writhing helplessly as their sparks were overloaded again and again. Instead, Megatron was left with Starscream, and Starscream's endless complaints.

It is bad enough that he can tell that Blitzwing and Lugnut are frustrated about not being allowed to bring their lovers, but he has to deal with Starscream's more vocal irritation. The seeker is upset that Megatron won't let him go flying, that Ultra has several bots clearly on call but won't share, he's not allowed to just sneak out of the meetings. The complaints go on and on, and he can't just shove the bot down to turn that into encouragements to use his spark.

He's decided to spend time afterwards just wandering the Autobot Headquarters. The official reason is that he's here to make sure the anti-Decepticon weaponry is gone, just like how Ultra can wander around the Decepticon Headquarters to make sure no one is being abused, but his real reason is to just find a fragging datapad that he can read and not want to break over Starscream's head.

He fully anticipates having to wade through heaps of pads and dust, having been informed by Shockwave and Longarm of the deplorable condition of the storage when his dignitaries had arrived many vorns ago.

Instead, what greets optics is a cheerily lit, neatly organized room with nary a datapad out of place. There is even a pad collection bin at the front. Several bins, organized by pad subject, in fact. Above them hangs a sign.

_Please place your datapads into the correct collection bin_

It is illustrated by two images. One has a random bot tossing a datapad on the floor, and Optimus and Orion are huddled together and unhappy. The second image has the same bot placing a pad into one of the bins, and the twins are giving him happy smiles and thumbs-up gestures.

Megatron can't help his smile at that, especially when a closer look shows that they are posed in just a way on the second picture to show off their sparkplates. They clearly know that making a bot think they have a chance at getting them in the berth means the bot is more likely to do it. He wonders if Ultra allowed them to be photographed like that or if it happened before they started 'facing. He also wonders if the mech that did this organization has gone home already. He imagines so, since it is so late in the sol it is technically morning.

He's going to just grab a datapad that was near the back, when he spots a sign in ancient Cybertronion. Raising an optic ridge, he follows it back. He's even more amazed to see that the further back he goes, the older the dialect. He hasn't seen a lot of these in a _very_ long time. When he sees a sign on a door that says, "Still sorting, only go upstairs" He knows he has to go downstairs to see just how bad it really was before.

The room is every bit as bad as Shockwave had suggested. If the other rooms had been this awful, it must have taken the bots many stellar cycles to get it in functional order again. If Megatron can stand the personality of whichever bots accomplished this task, he plans to attempt to recruit them. Such work ethic deserves reward, and the Decepticon army is far better at offering . . . rewards.

Megatron carefully makes his way into the room. The shelves and storage units nearest the door have all been ripped out, and a few have been rebuilt and replaced. Most of the pads have been dusted, and there's a stack on a table with a labeling device nearby, along with an open datapad showing scribbled, frustrated translation notes.

He picks it up, and glances through it, thoroughly amused at the angry crossing out when they get halfway through what was obviously commentary on the original writer's creators, and have to try to go back to working on the original text. He can tell that they are used to that happening, because some only get the first word translated before getting skipped.

He sets it back down, and returns to exploring. The room is clearly as large as the one above it, just more crowded and dirty. It took him several breems just to transverse the previous room, and this one is taking even longer because of all the things in his way. He eventually gets to a sight he was _not_ expecting at all.

Orion and Optimus.

Recharging on a fold-out berth.

The Magnus requires his lovers to stay on base, accessible to him at all times, but refuses to give them a room of their own?

Were they Autobots or slaves?

Megatron drops down silently beside them, studying their frames. They recharge the way a half-starved, recharge-deprived bot does; twitching fretfully, their systems unable to reach the deeper levels of recharge required for optimal health and function. He gently touches them, and they do not wake-another sign of deprivation. They fit into his arms so easily, such a light weight frame for the both of them, and Megatron rises up, carrying them out of the dusty datapad storage.

He makes his way to the room he was given, truly disappointed in the lack of security. If this was a Decepticon base, he would have been at least _seen_ carrying out the bots. No wonder the twins hadn't been discovered before he went down there. That single sign would have been enough to convince these miserable excuses for guards to stay away.

He sets the twins on his berth, next to the recharging Starscream. His seeker wakes up at his movement, about to screech at him when he sticks his servo over the mech's mouth. "Keep silent, Starscream. You don't want to wake them. They're half-offline as it is, no need to burst their audios while we're at it."

Starscream's optics light up when he catches sight of the twins. "You brought us the Magnus's berthwarmers. Oh, I take back all the things I said about you this last decacycle," he reaches over and pulls one twin closer to him, frowning when the bot does not online. "What's wrong with them? Did you have Shockwave and Longarm drug them?"

He cuffs the seeker's head lightly. "I don't have to drug bots to get them in my berth."

Starscream scoffs, "You had to drug me."

Megatron gives the mech a flat look, "Since when is kissing you and feeding you energon sweets _drugging_?"

The seeker sticks out his glossa like a sparkling, "Since I said so."

Rolling his optics, he climbs into the berth, the twins settled between them. "We're going to have to fuel them when they online. They're half-starved."

"_Why_ are they half-starved?" Starscream mutters, stroking gentle claws along the twins' frames. "Did the Magnus use them and then deny them fuel? Fragging stupid Autobots."

He doesn't intend to speculate anymore this night. The twins are in _his_ berth, not the Magnus's, and they shall stay there until he has a better understanding of what happened. "Recharge, Starscream. They will not online until the morning, and then you can proposition them all you like."

Starscream runs his beautiful claws over their frames, teasing at their plates questioningly. When they only curl up tighter together, the seeker frowns. "I want to see them using my chamber like an energon cube."

He pushes Starscream down flat on the berth, "You can ask them if they want to when they _online_."

The seeker makes a face at him, pulling one of the twins on top of him like an Autobot sparkling toy. "They'll recharge better with a large spark under them."

"And will be more likely to wake up wanting to 'face," he responds flatly. It doesn't stop him from pulling his own twin on top of himself, as well. He has no problem with an eager bot in his berth, after all.

* * *

Please Review

So I'm writing these notes all at once. I uploaded all the chapters the day before the first chapter was put on the site, and am now writing this. I don't actually have much to say, but I'll do what I can. I'm currently on pokemon, playing White. If you want, I can put up my friendcode :VI've been doing the GTS a lot. Right now I'm playing on the negotiations. I have been giving away snivys. Since I have the grass starter, and she was a girl o3o I don't have a ditto, since I need to defeat N and blah blah blah.

But tell me what you think of the fic, guys! 8D


	4. Chapter 4

Transformers belongs to Hasbro

* * *

When Optimus and Orion online, they feel oddly warm. Blinking tiredly, it takes them a moment to realize what exactly is wrong. It is all the more embarrassing because they have two pairs of red optics watching them as they get their bearings. "M-M-Megatron! St-Starscream!" they both exclaim at the same time, blushing heavily.

They are also out of reach of each other, and neither twin is happy with that. They've been onlining in each other's arms for ages, and now Optimus is being held by Megatron and Starscream has Orion. "I don't," Optimus flushes, "I don't remember coming to your berthroom last night, Lord Megatron." The spark under him is so very hot, and he can feel the pulses of it even through the sparkplates. /_Frag, do you think they're planning on 'facing us, Orion?_/

/_What else would they be doing?_/ Orion shifts uncomfortably on top of Starscream.

The seeker cups his aft, lowering his voice in what is almost painful to hear from a seeker, "We brought you here because you were recharging so very badly. Would you like to have some energon?"

Megatron pets Optimus's frame, "Even if you want to head straight to work, we insist that you fuel up before you go."

"But if you want to pay us for the energon," Starscream traces his claws down the central seam of Orion's sparkplates, "you are more than welcome to do so. I accept payment with your sparks."

Megatron reaches over and cuffs Starscream's helmet. "You are not obligated to do anything, but we do find you very attractive." Megatron rubs his hips, curling fingers around his aft to give it a squeeze.

/_Should we?_/ Orion asks, his spark pulsing quickly, building up quite a lot of heat. /_I mean, I don't think Ultra will be happy if we 'face these bots specifically, but maybe it'll teach him that we're not sparklings?_/

/_Or maybe it will turn him off badly enough that he fires us._/

Orion keeps from making a disappointed sound, and slips off of Starscream, /_We still have that date he promised us. I don't want to miss that._/

Optimus slips off of Megatron, taking Orion's servo in his own, "We can just go, sir. We don't even need the energon. We're just fine how we are." He leans against his twin, /_I just wish we knew how he found us. No one goes where we were. We may have to go all the way to the back of the lower level._/

Orion nods in a way only Optimus can tell while Megatron moves them closer, "No, little bots. You _must_ fuel up. You are half starved and shaking. It would be remiss of us to let you go like this." Starscream runs claws along their frames, and Megatron pulls out a few energon sweets, "Eat these while we get you a few cubes. You will, of course, be given several to keep in your subspaces."

/_Frag. You think we can maybe distract them into forgetting about this? We can't afford to find an apartment and keep doing all the work we're doing._/ Orion tries to dodge Starscream's claws, and the seeker only grows more bold, reaching out to pull both bots onto his lap. /_Maybe if we interface them, they'll leave us alone after?_/

Optimus gives his brother a flat look. /_You really think they'll be LESS interested after they've had us __writhing for them?_/

"Aw," Starscream coos, "they're using private twin speak. I wonder if they're telling each other how fragging hot it would be to let us see them lick each other's sparks."

Megatron just rolls his optics, getting off the berth, "Or they're talking about how much trouble that you'll be getting into if you try to force them to." The mech waves a servo at the candies, "I did tell you both to eat. You'll be allowed to take that and more. I can't stand to see bots starving."

Optimus and Orion hold each other a little tighter, looking at the energon sweets with nervous optics. They would _love_ to have it, but they aren't sure if it is drugged or extra high potency for bots of Decepticon frame size. Starscream runs claws along their frames, seeming to read their thoughts, "Would you like us to eat one first? You can choose which one. It would be no hardship, not when Oil Slick made these." The seeker smirks, "They don't even have red cora in them, since those wouldn't have been allowed on planet."

"Which was rather upsetting to learn," Megatron returns with several cubes of energon. Decepticon-sized cubes. "The easiest way to get Starscream to cease his whining is to give him things laced with red cora." A smile spreads across his lips, "Preferably while he is in the presence of another seeker."

Optimus revs a little at that thought. Seekers are such hot-afts. It's not fair to tempt them with images of Starscream and some nameless seeker writhing together, wings twitching and flexing as they grind sparks.

Orion shifts a bit next to him, clearly thinking the same thing. They hold each other tightly, "Y-yes, I suppose so." They hate how it would be rude to demand the Decepticons actually follow through with the offer to test it first. They can't actually tell the bots that they're worried about it.

Megatron takes that out of their servos by pulling out a candy, pulling it into four parts, and murmuring, "How about you each take a piece and Starscream and I eat the other two?"

They give a silent sigh of relief, and each take one. After the other two mechs eat it first, they pop their own. Their optics flicker as the candy melts on their glossa, and it is _incredibly_ hard not to just slink into Megatron's lap. They know the mech would happily servo feed them a tiny bit at a time, just to watch them mewl and ask for more. They're glad they spent all that time with Elita-1, so they can keep that under control.

Even if it is _very_ tempting.

"Oil Slick made these?" Orion asks, glossa flicking out to lick his lips clean of energon residue. Optimus catches sight of a tiny bit of pink on his brother's mouth that he'd missed and leans in to kiss him, cleaning it away with his own glossa.

Two large engines rev loudly when they kiss, and the twins smile into it, putting on a show to thank the mechs for giving them such amazing candy.

They don't stop kissing until Starscream curses and slides a servo between them to rub intently at their sparkplates.

They pull away reluctantly, pushing the claws further from their plates. They huddle together again, and Megatron pushes the bowl of candy in front of them. "Go ahead and keep fueling, little bots. You are still clearly very starved. We'll tell your Magnus that we're taking care of you this sol, just fuel up."

They glance at each other, this is a sol that they _have_ to work. It is scheduled right in, and if they don't, they'll possibly lose the job. Optimus shakes his head nervously, "We have to go now. We can't stay here."

They _are _Academy students still, officially. If they are . . . fired, the Academy will endeavor to find them another position, but no bot will want to touch them if the _Magnus_ found them lacking. "We have work to do," Orion adds helpfully, slipping off the berth. "We thank you for the sweets, and if you insist, we will take some of this energon as well."

Megatron catches the both of them and scoops them up as though they were sparklings. "I think we should consult with your Magnus on this issue. He should be in the office by now, am I correct?"

They look at each other, checking the time, and nod reluctantly. He'd have come in a little bit ago and saw that neither of them are at their desk. They're going to be fired for certain, and there goes _any_ hope of staying off of Haydon IV. They _hate_ their home planet, and they don't want to go back to it.

Megatron smiles at them, "I think we'll just walk over there." Fingers draw along their frames, and they all get off the berth, "I was originally going to ask you both if you were being trained to be diplomatic ambassadors to replace the one we have now. I would quite like a pair of twins in exchange for the Shockwave and Longarm twins we have here. You would be a welcome improvement over the single bot we have there now."

Optimus and Orion try and escape his arms, and Megatron only holds them more tightly. "I'm not certain we're built for living in Decepticon society." Orion moans softly as Starscream comes up beside Megatron and tickles his sparkplates again.

"You would do wonderful," the seeker purrs at him, fluttering his wings in a way that reminds them both of overload, and makes their engines rev loudly.

The seeker gives them more energon candy and cubes of energon that they reluctantly put in their subspaces as Megatron walks out of the room. "We're happy working for the Magnus," they say cautiously, voices wobbling slightly out of place in their nervousness.

Megatron walks easily along the path to Ultra's office, "We'd love to have you with us, little bots. You would not want for fuel, and you would be very highly placed."

They would be sparkwarmers, or berthbots, and any position as delegate or emissary would be purely in title only as they spent their sols having as many overloads as possible.

While that sounds fantastic in theory, they would grow bored of it very quickly. "If the Magnus wishes us to have such a position when we graduate the Academy, we will take it into consideration," Orion offers, unwilling to commit to anything more than a vague promise that they will think about it.

Megatron rubs their frames softly, "Drink your energon, little bots. The little you ate is not nearly enough to make you well."

They frown when Starscream pushes two Decepticon sized cubes into their servos again. "We're fine. We can fuel at the designated time."

Megatron raises an optic ridge, "Could you humor an old mech? I'd hate to see you so hungry."

"You're not old," Optimus protests, sipping slowly on the energon cube. /I/ They dislike being drugged. Especially around bots that want to 'face them. "You are very attractive and have many more vorns ahead of you."

The twins sink down in his arms when they reach more populated areas of Command, and bots turn to stare at them.

Starscream looks like he's about to kiss them, just to get them to feel even more horrified, but Megatron pushes the seeker discreetly out of the way, saying just loudly enough to be heard by the bots around them, but quietly enough he can claim that it was meant to be just heard by the twins, "You both need to take better care of yourselves. If we hadn't found you, you surely would be still starving. You need to not work so very hard. Keep drinking, you'll feel better when you're fully fueled. You barely even touched it."

They look down at their three-fourths full cubes, and sip on it reluctantly. The rumor that they 'faced Megatron will be tempered by his insistence that they were starving.

Unless bots believe they were fragged so vigorously so often that they were always running on low-fuel.

It didn't matter. "You can put us down now," Optimus says, making it more of an order than a request. They aren't going to be _carried_ into Ultra Magnus's office. That would be embarrassing beyond belief, and it's not something either bot is willing to contemplate. "Our peds are as functional today as they were yesterday."

Megatron chuckles, deep and dark in a way that resonates with their sparks to remind them the mech holding them is a _Decepticon_, the most dangerous one in existence even if he hides it with trappings of elegance and spark pulsing sexuality. "I think I will keep holding you, little bots. You will be set down when I know you won't take off just to hide in your datapad stacks."

They share a worried look, "We have a _job_ to do. You are keeping us from it. We can't just not do it."

Megatron smirks, "I am fairly certain that if the leader of another faction comes in with you, you will not get in trouble, little bots. Not for not going straight to work, anyway."

They're doubtful, but they don't express those doubts aloud. Instead, they huddle closer together, and Orion curses at the silver and purple-red paint on their chests. /_We look like we've been grinding sparks. Do you have a spare cloth in your subspace?_/ Orion slides his servo into Optimus's subspace, hunting for something to polish themselves clean with. /_My last one is dirty._/

Optimus vents a frustrated huff of air, /_Mine are all dirty too._/

They lean against each other, frustrated. /_Of course this happens when we hadn't gotten to the __washrack._/

Optimus nods, and they both freeze when they get to Ultra's office. They place the energon cubes the best they can to hide their chests, even if they know it is futile, and Megatron opens the door without even knocking. They glare up at the Decepticon leader, but Ultra doesn't even look up, "Did you want something, Clear Sky? I wasn't expecting you here for another megacycle or so."

Megatron sits in the chair opposite Ultra's desk, and Starscream stands behind and to his right, as his second is expected to. "I did not expect to find that Glosswing had decided to keep berthslaves." He strokes a servo along the twins' frames, and Ultra's optics fix on the streaks of paint on their chests. "When I went hunting for a datapad to keep myself entertained, I was not expecting to find your lovers tucked away on a fold-out berth in the datapad storage. Nor was I expecting them to be suffering energon and recharge deprivation."

Ultra gives the twins an absolutely stunned look, "You've been working yourselves so hard you've been _starving_ yourselves?" The mech continues before they can answer, glaring at Megatron, "And they are _not_ my lovers. I don't even know where you got that ridiculous idea."

They look down at the energon in the cubes, while Megatron chuckles. "You put them both in the consort placement when you take them to the treaty meetings. What else am I to think?"

Ultra's glare intensifies, "That I don't want you 'facing them."

"Because they are servicing your spark and you have always been a very jealous mech," Megatron chuckles again, louder this time. "I should have guessed. Your most recent publication was about Metalmist developing a crush on twin officers Lightspark and Sparkdrive. You are not subtle at all, Ultra."

Orion and Optimus give each other a shocked look. They had _read_ that, and were excited to see that their fanfic may actually be canon in the next novel, but the fact that the officers are based on _them_ brings a whole new dimension to it. They aren't really sure how they feel about it.

Optimus asks quietly, "So you _don't_ hate us?"

"I," Ultra flushes in a way they've never seen the Magnus blush before, "the way I feel for you is irrelevant. It is inappropriate for an officer as highly ranked as I am to take advantage of bots who work under him."

Starscream purrs, his claws slipping down to stroke the twins, "Oh, I'm sure you wish for them to work _under_ you."

Megatron cuffs him again, hard enough to knock him away. "If you have nothing productive to add, you are welcome to leave."

The seeker sticks out his glossa, and crosses his arms, making Ultra sigh, "You really need more adult lovers, Megatron."

Starscream huffs, gesturing at the twins, "You're one to talk, old bot."

Megatron cuffs Starscream again, "Get out." The seeker stands up sulkily, and Megatron points at the door, "Go harass Lugnut. I know you love doing that." The mech ruffles his wings, and stalks out, muttering under his breath the entire time. "Now, then, back to what this was originally about." The twins are set on the desk, and Megatron pets their frames, "They have been starving themselves for you, it seems. This can not go on."

"No. It cannot." Ultra Magnus laces his fingers together and rests his servos on his desk, leaning towards them. "Would you care to explain why you have been overworking yourselves?"

Orion crosses his arms over his chest, defiant now that he's certain he's going to end up fired. They might as well go out proud, with their heads held high. "You told us to organize the datapads. How else did you think we'd manage to get it done?"

Ultra sighs, "That was just busywork. You insisted on both showing up when I told you I only needed one bot."

The twins glare at the mech, "That _mess_ was busywork? You should have hired a librarian, but we managed to get the entire room organized, and now we're working on the upper and lower floors!"

Ultra blinks at them in confusion, "... all of the upper and lower floors?"

Optimus pulls out the datapad they've been using to plan out the organization and repairs. It had been lucky they'd both already known how to build shelves and storage units from their time in some of the factories they've worked at, since everything had needed to be replaced. "Yes. While it would have been more logical to start from either the top or the bottom levels, we were unaware they existed until we'd cleared out the pads that were covering the door."

Ultra takes the datapad from him, frowning at how /bad/ it was before. "If... If I had known how bad this was, I never would have told you to do it. You will stop, and I will hire an actual librarian to take care of it."

They glare at him, "_No_. We want to do it, since we're almost done."

The Magnus raises an optic ridge, "From what I remember, there are about eleven floors to the datapad storage. I was expecting you to do general fixes on the front area." The bots rubs his optics as they gape at him.

"_Eleven floors_?"

"Hm," Megatron hums, curling a possessive servo around Orion. "I think you are forgetting something, Glosswing. Your twins were recharging in the pad storage rooms, and they've been terminally low on energon. I wonder if your officers are homeless."

Optimus turns and hisses under his breath, hopefully quiet enough so Ultra Magnus won't hear it, "Stop _helping_, Lord Megatron." Does the bot _want_ them to have to sell their sparks on the side?

Ultra gives them a hopeless look, "Are you?"

They look at each other, knowing that if they lie Ultra is uncannily good at being able to tell. Orion bites his lower lip, saying nervously, "I wouldn't _say_ homeless. It depends on your point of view." They could call the storage area home, it was better than a lot of the apartments they used to live in, and was quieter than the dorms in academy.

Ultra rubs his optics, "And if I was to say, 'You aren't allowed to recharge in the datapad storage area' would you say you are homeless?"

They give each other a thoughtful look, trying to figure out if they could get Sentinel or Elita-1 to take them in. Sentinel would _certainly_ declare them as his and never let them forget it, while Elita would kick them back on the streets randomly whenever it suited her purpose. They bite their lower lips, and nod once, very nervously.

Ultra curses under his ventilations, and he looks them straight in the optics. "Why didn't you come to me, or to another officer for help? We offer temporary housing to bots in need, provided they are looking for a job or already employed." He cuts them off before they can reply with a wave of a servo, "No. Don't answer. It is unimportant. What matters now is that we find a place for you to stay."

Slag. They can't afford any place that would meet the Magnus's approval. Orion ducks his head, "It's alright, sir. We can find housing on our own." The slums at the edge of the city meant they had a megacycle of travel or more each sol in each direction, but they could still afford to occasionally buy energon if they moved there. Even if it meant all the money they had saved up for their paintjobs for the date with Ultra is gone.

It isn't like the Magnus will _want_ to go on that date now, anyway.

Megatron runs a servo along their frames, touching them gently, "And you would lose out on recharge or not afford anything. I think not, little bots."

Ultra gives Megatron a flat look, "Do stop calling my Autobots little bots, this is one of the reasons so many dislike you."

Megatron raises an optic ridge, saying something without words to Ultra that passes over the twins' heads, before nodding. "I think that they would do better with temporary housing."

"Very well. We are in agreement, then." Ultra focuses on the twins, "We can assign you temporary officer's quarters. We have some here on base, and a few apartment complexes further in the city. Your first stellar cycle is rent-free, and if you choose to remain in the rooms, Command will remove half your pay for room and board."

They exchange a glance. Half of their pay to cover room _and_ board was unusually generous. The Magnus had to be doing it out of guilt.

Megatron raises an optic ridge, "I think you should take them in yourself."

Ultra glares, "You think that because you want them in easy access for _you_."

The grey mech waves a servo, "I think that because it is very clear that they would love to spend time with you. Didn't you say you were going to be going to a play with your secretary? I think they'd _love_ to spend more time with you. It isn't like you don't have plenty of room. Most of that place goes completely unused."

"I am _not_ going to require my secretaries to live with me," Ultra hisses at Megatron, finally losing his temper. "That may be acceptable behavior for Decepticons, but it is _not_ for us."

They wouldn't mind living with Ultra Magnus, even if they _were_ cast in the role of berthbots for him. Primus, they _want_ to spend their time in his berth, pleasuring his spark. That's not what they want for their entire purpose, of course, but securing a position in his berth has always been one of their goals.

They give him pleading looks, and the Magnus looks increasingly uncomfortable, "... no." They look at the floor, sparkbroken. "You will live in the officer's quarters, and if you choose to stay after the stellar cycle is up, you have your rent set."

They nod sadly, "Yes, Ultra Magnus, sir."

They start to slip off the desk, only to get pulled into Megatron's arms, "I think that they should take the sol off from sorting datapads. Spend some time showing me and my fellow Decepticons Cybertron."

"They have work in the-" Ultra cuts himself off, apparently unwilling to task them with returning to the datapad storage until he has a better idea of what kind of workload he is assigning to them. He falls silent for a klik. "If they wish to show you around the city, they are free to do so, but they will be doing so as paid guides."

Megatron smirks at him, and then turns to the twins. "Would you do us the honor of showing us what has changed in your city since our last visit, many vorns ago?"

They look at each other, clearly unsure if they should agree or not. This is one of their _required_ workdays, and Ultra just took away the only thing they were allowed to do. They'd do the secretary work, but the mech that took over their job for the entire time the Decepticons are visiting is already there.

"If... if that's what you want us to do," they say reluctantly.

Megatron looks at them with dim optics, "I would like nothing more."

They look at each other, "We'd like to specify that we don't want to be carried."

Something like disappointment flickers across the larger bot's face, but he nods. "Of course. You may have to remind Blitzwing of that fact several times, as his less rational personalities are less than perfect at remembering details. It does not help that Blitzwing is used to carrying Oil Slick."

Optimus and Orion are well aware that smaller bots in Decepticon culture are deemed lapbots until they prove their willingness to offline bots for picking them up.

Orion gives Megatron a confused look, "Oil Slick the _zombie mech_ allows himself to be picked up?"

Megatron gives them an amused look, "So you were Autobot sparklings raised on that story?" Optimus and Orion just nod, because like _frag_ are they going to admit their neutral background to Megatron. "How amusing." The mech waves a servo, "Blitzwing and Oil Slick are lovers. That's the reason Oil Slick allows it, and why Blitzwing has been oddly unbalanced during this visit. Allowing any of Team Chaar on the planet would be an outright statement of war, even if we kept Oil Slick in the berth, and Strika firmly at Lugnut's side."

It would be deeply amusing to see anyone try to make a femme like Strika stay at Lugnut's side. Rather, it would go the other way, and Lugnut would do everything Strika told him to, just as most mechs would for their femme.

They still aren't going to allow themselves to be carried around the city like pets. "If we ask him to put us down, then he will?"

Megatron's expression turns weary, "If you ask, he will. If you order his Icy face, he may not."

They give each other a slightly confused look at that, but nod. "Then we can take you out to look over Cybertron."

Megatron smiles, "I thought you would. You may want to wash up, but we will be waiting for you in the main area when you return."

They slip off of Ultra's desk, giving the Magnus one last look before slipping away. They take off running, servo in servo, to the washrack by the datapads. They want to get this paint off of them as quickly as possible.

Their washing process is exceptionally fast, because they want a few kliks to polish up to a decent shine. They will be going out with a seeker, and if their polishing level is not adequate, they fully anticipate that Starscream will grab them and polish them himself. Seekers are well-known for this tendency.

Polish them until they are venting hard and begging him to use their sparks.

Orion shudders, and Optimus shivers with him, their bond thrown wide open, spark-sensations shared equally between them. "You're thinking filthy things, Orion. Do you want to 'face them this sol?"

Orion frowns, starting to polish up his brother, "Ultra will be upset with us if we do." He scoffs, "Not that he isn't already."

Optimus makes a face, working on polishing as well, "Everyone already thinks we did, and are going to keep thinking that even if we tell them we didn't."

"_Especially_ if we tell them we didn't. Refusing to admit it makes us look guilty, saying we did makes us liars. I hate this sort of thing. At least with Sentinel it didn't really matter because Elita 'faces him, too."

They add a bit more of the nicer polish they keep for special occasions, "I kinda want to, but if we do, I don't think Ultra will ever think of us how we want him to."

"Then we won't 'face them," Orion declares firmly, and then lowers his voice. "But I mean, if they insist, or we want to play with them a little, maybe we could . . play with each other while they watch? Ultra can't get mad about that, right?"

Optimus would love to lick his brother's spark while Megatron and his most loyal followers plus Starscream watch. "I think he could still be upset with us, but I wouldn't say no to it."

Orion nods, "I think _they_ would have to suggest it first. And I'm not talking the first thing they suggest, since they most likely will. It has to be bargained out of us. Make it seem like they have to fight us for it."

Optimus smiles, "That's a very good idea, and would make us look better for Ultra. We can easily declare we can't because of the energon starvation."

And if the Decepticons responded by giving them sweets and sticky energon bars to share, neither twin was going to object. They doubt the Decepticons will object either after they see the way Optimus and Orion enjoy their sweets together. It's painfully easy to get bots revved after letting them watch just a few short kisses.

It's good being twins.

* * *

Please Review

I am having trouble finding anyone to trade with on pokemon on GTS :C I have been sitting here for the last ten minutes, and I can find no one :C Sad Zira is sad.


	5. Chapter 5

Transformers belongs to Hasbro

* * *

When they make their way back to the main entrance, Megatron and the rest of the Decepticons are standing around, harassing the mech that has taken their place at the desk. They walk over, holding servos, "Where would you like to see first? We can take you on a tour of various crystal gardens, or almost any other place you wish."

Starscream looks at them with dim optics, no longer trying to prod at the secretarybot, "I'd _love_ to see the crystal gardens. Do you have any places with red cora?"

"There _is_ a collection of red cora in the Valanth garden, but it requires special invitation in order to visit it. You would need to place a request for said permission at least a decavorn in advance. The wait list is rather long." It was a very popular spot for bonding ceremonies, or for a lover's tryst or anniversary celebration. Orion pulls Optimus towards the exit, sure that the Decepticons will follow them.

"Th-this will be fine, sir," they say quietly, heading in the direction of the best private crystal garden they know. They're lucky that Elita-1 had decided she needed /two/ pretty mechs as arm candy, rather than Sentinel, for that time she went with that group of femmes. They know they aren't really the best bots to ask this sort of thing, but they'll try their best.

Megatron nods, optics dim, "Do tell us if you think of another place to go. Any energon shops you like, things like that."

Blitzwing comes up behind them and scoops them both up in his arms, his face set on Random. "Ooh, ja, do tell us if zere are any sweet shops around. I would love to get some energon candy and lick it off of your-"

"Blitzwing," Megatron sighs, "put them down."

Random pouts, clutching them tighter to his chest. "But my lord, zey are so cute and tiny, and zey do not even know about my glossa yet!"

For some reason Megatron shudders at that, "Put them _down_, Blitzwing."

Optimus and Orion give each other confused looks as they're put back on the ground in the most reluctant manner ever. /_Do you think he has three?_/

Optimus takes his twin's servo, and they start to walk, /_One for each face? Most likely, but I bet that wasn't what he was talking about._/

/_Maybe it is like those odd vines Elita told us about. The wriggly ones that latch on to things._/

Optimus stumbles and flushes with heat, /_Primus. If he has a glossa like that, maybe he could, you know, wrap it all the way around a spark?_/

Orion's optics flare, and he moves closer to his brother, /_Or squeeze two sparks together with it. I bet that'd be really hot._/

Shaking himself, Optimus squeezes his brother's servo, /_We shouldn't speculate about it right now. I think having painfully hot sparkplates might be taken as an invitation to pry us open and try overloading us in public._/

Orion leans against him, /_They'd get in SO MUCH trouble. I don't think Megatron would allow it._/

/_He would if Starscream was the one doing it._/

/_That is very true,_/ Orion frowns, /_but we wouldn't get in trouble for it. Not from Ultra, I think._/

Optimus shrugs, and they both jump when Blitzwing leans over them, "What are ze little bots talking about? You are supposed to show us what is going on, and you say nozing about ze place around us."

They move out of his reach. "I know you have visited our city before. Cybertron's capital is a very beautiful, industrious place. Most of these places closest to Autobot Command are businesses of varying sorts, though a few places are residences for wealthier bots. The Academy is only a half-megacycle's drive from here, and all ranking officers are trained there." Optimus gestures at a building, "This is the Quartz Cafe. It's a favorite stop for bots who work in the Command offices to pick up energon."

Starscream comes up next to them, claws brushing their shoulders. "Do you come there often?"

"No." It is horribly out out of their price range, even more so since they _are_ saving credits.

Starscream tisks softly, "Not that good, then?"

"It is quite good, we just don't go that often."

Megatron walks over to them, "If you could fuel there every solar cycle, would you?"

They keep from frowning at that, "No. It is good, but their menu isn't varied enough for daily fueling." They are used to getting fed random expensive candies and types by Sentinel and Elita. They _can_ just have the normal energon, and _do_, but if they could afford to eat out every sol, they wouldn't choose the Quartz.

"Do you want to fuel there now?" Lugnut asks quietly, tapping his pincers together. The glance at each other, deciding that Lugnut is the best bot for them to be near, and they fall into step at his side.

"We are not currently in need of fuel. Megatron made sure we have full tanks," Orion says kindly, reaching out to brush a servo against Lugnut's arm. "But we thank you for your concern."

The large bot smiles at them nervously, all five optics shuttering adorably, "Just tell us if you're hungry, and we'll gladly stop for more."

"Thank you, Lugnut." They're well stocked, but they'll take the Decepticons up on that offer to have their supply of energon stretch out longer. They are well versed in sneaking cubes and candies into their subspaces without detection.

They get yanked into Blitzwing's arms again, cuddled in a distressingly tight way, "You are boz so _tiny_, I can not imagine not being able to fuel myself if I was so _small_."

Orion instinctively kicks Blitzwing's sparkplates, and instead of dropping them, the bot revs loudly, clutching them even closer. /_Decepticons are kinky fraggers,_/ he complains to Optimus, who tries to squirm out of Blitzwing's reach. The chest armor is so very hot against them, and they can both feel Blitzwing's spark throbbing eagerly.

Megatron sighs, "Put them _down_, Blitzwing. Do we have to send you back to your room?"

Blitzwing holds them even tighter, "But zere are _two_ of zem, and zey are so cute. I still do not see why you would not let me have my Oil Zlick come wiz us."

Megatron gives the mech a flat look, "Keep a level head, Blitzwing, or I'll have Lugnut deal with you."

The mech seems to be forcing the other personality in place, Icy face forward, "Yes, my lord."

Both twins are placed gently on the ground. They slip out of reach quickly, watching the Decepticons warily. "The garden is not far from here. Shall we continue onward?" Optimus wipes a bit of black and tan paint from Orion's frame. "The credits Ultra Magnus has provided will be more than adequate to allow us entrance."

/_Do you know the frequency of the place? Because I'm betting they will FREAK if we don't call ahead and tell them that we're bringing all these Decepticons._/

Optimus moves slightly nervously, /_No clue. This is such a bad idea. I wish we actually had a plan._/

/_We could call Elita?_/ They exchange a nervous look that would have been just a glance of the optics if they weren't so very connected to each other, /_She'll demand we give her details after. It will mean we CAN'T 'face them even if we want to._/

Optimus grabs his twin's servo, squeezing it tightly, /_We can still eat the energon candy in front of them. Maybe Lugnut will try to hide his face at the sight of us._/

While Orion hunts down the frequency for the private garden in Veredren, Optimus moves them closer to Lugnut. "I hope that the negotiations are successful this trip, and that next time you will be allowed to have Strika with you. I am sure you miss her terribly."

Lugnut blushes up, his optics spiraling closed with embarrassment until only his primary optic is online. "I hope for that as well. Sharing comcalls at night is not the same as recharging together."

Optimus nods, "I couldn't imagine being apart from Orion for even a single sol. It must be very hard for you not to be with Strika."

Lugnut tilts his head, "Have you ever been apart from your twin?"

They both shake their heads, Orion still distracted with tracking down the number, so Optimus responds, "We're always very close. Never more than a quick run apart from each other."

The furthest they'd ever been apart had been on oposite ends of training course that had been rather large and complex. Their instructors had been trying to teach them to fight separately-it had failed and succeeded. Failed in that they did not stay apart long. Succeeded because they utterly destroyed the course to get back to each other and wiped out all the opposition without even trying.

They had even put a simulation of Megatron in that for some reason.

They had both just slipped past him, deeming him too risky to fight, and not as much of a threat because it is peace times. It has been ever since Ultra was in office. It was unlikely to change any time soon, judging by how cordial they are to each other.

Orion finishes texting back and forth their ability to get in to the crystal garden, and leans against Optimus, /_They were about to close up, but when they realized I was serious and actually transferred credits into their accounts, they changed their minds._/

/_Excellent. That means we shouldn't have to deal with other tourist bots, and we can have one of their guides show us around. You did pay for an actual guide, right?_/

Orion blinks wide and innocent optics at Optimus, /_You wanted me to get a guide? I thought WE were the guides?_/

Optimus elbows him in the side, /_Fragger. You'd better have picked the best fragging guide there. We nearly failed that class on crystals, even if we could identify them by taste._/

/_Well, they DO let us try the crystals, I'm sure they won't mind us doi-_/ Orion stops at the murderous look from Optimus, /_YES, I got us a guide. I'm not stupid._/

Megatron clears his throat, "As entertaining as it is to watch you both, would you like to share what that is about with the rest of us?"

Starscream leans in close, claws grazing their frames, "I'd especially like to know why your," the claws tease Optimus's headfins, "fingers twitched like they were trying not to strangle your brother."

They both move away from the claws, hiding closer to Lugnut, "We were just discussing how to best show you the crystal garden. The guide will meet us there in the front, and we'll have the entire place to ourselves."

"Fantastic," Starscream purrs, shifting close to pinch the headfin in just the perfect way, making Optimus rev loudly. "Do they have red cora there? It's my favorite type of crystal formation to admire."

Megatron yanks the seeker against his side, away from the twins. "Your favorite to be shoved down over and fragged senseless, you mean."

Starscream only smiles easily, "That too."

The twins hide a little closer to Lugnut, really wishing they'd been allowed to do something _other_ than this for work this sol. It is horribly distracting to think of using Starscream on top of red cora. The large Decepticon gently places pincers on their shoulders, a soothing gesture, "Would you like me to do anything?"

As much as they'd like to tell Lugnut to keep them out of reach of the other Decepticons, they know a single word from Megatron would bring that down. They shake their heads, "We're just fine, thank you. We're almost to the garden, is there anything any of _you_ would like before we get there?"

Starscream smiles, "We'd like a taste of _you_, little bots, so why don't you- awk!" he screeches as Megatron grabs one of his wings and yanks him away from them again.

"You are just begging for me to get out your gag, Starscream. Do you _want_ to walk around in public like that?"

Fluttering his injured wings, Starscream flickers his optics at Megatron. "My lord, I had no idea that you wished to engage in such kinks while we were on Cybertron. Did you bring my cuffs as well?"

Megatron raises an optic ridge, "The cuffs as well? If that's what you want, Starscream." The next thing they know, Starscream has cuffs on his wrists in front of him, and is wearing a mouthclamp. Meagtron pats the seeker on the the aft, "There you go, Starscream. Just as you wanted." The mech turns to the stunned twins, "Next time, don't make offers like that."

They hold each other a little closer, "Th-that's just being _polite_. You aren't supposed to ask things like that."

"You are lucky _he_," Megatron points a finger at Random, "didn't grab you again."

Blitzwing, in his Icy face still, smiles coldly at them. "If zey offer again, I fully intend to take advantage of it. Zey will look very nice chained down to my berz, wiz zeir sparkplates removed."

They shiver, and link their servos, taking an unconscious step back from the triple-changer. No matter how spark-tinglingly hot he is, he's not worth being chained up. They aren't fond of restraints in the berth. Not unless they're being used on the _other_ bot.

Icy smirks at them, and they're sure the mech would have blown a kiss if Megatron wasn't watching, "My Oil Zlick _loves_ chains. You would look so pretty right next to him."

They shudder unhappily at the thought. They may not have been raised on the stories of the zombie mech like the other academy students, but they know the bot is dangerous. "No thank you."

Lugnut puts a servo in front of them, hiding them from the triple-changer's view, "How close are we to the crystal garden now?"

"Only a klik or so away," Orion answers, and both twins huddle against Lugnut's side. It's less than dignified, but it feels so comfortable being close to the large bot. There's something about him that soothes the spark and eases all their tension away. They are very content to be beside him. "They allow you to take samples with you, so you can save some for Strika if you like."

The mech nods, "She'd like that. Even if she prefers oil shale in her energon candy."

They nod, oil shale is very good in candy, but very expensive. It doesn't mix well, and that makes it harder to make. "She has very good taste."

Lugnut gives them a smile, "She does."

Across from them, Blitzwing makes something like a jealous sound, and Starscream rattles his chains. The few bots on the quiet streets all stop and stare as they pass, optics wide when they catch a glimpse of the restrained, gagged seeker with the sulky wings.

"I believe it would be best to remove Starscream's mouthclamp," Optimus advises as they approach the garden entrance. "He cannot sample crystals with it on."

Megatron hums softly, "You're quite right, Orion." The mech pulls out something from his subspace, "He _should_ have his mouth open." The clamp is taken off, and Starscream looks like he's about to say something when another gag is placed on him. "I think this fits him perfectly."

It is one of the berthbot gags where it leaves the mouth free for licking spark, but not for talking. Those things are absolutely _filthy_.

Blitzwing moves over, fingers along the seeker's frame, "You should use ze chains, my lord. He is _so_ _pretty_ in ze chains."

"You may take him to your berth tonight if you wish, Blitzwing. I believe I can find other entertainment for the evening." His optics fix on the twins, and they feel their sparks heat under that intent gaze. If there was a convenient horizontal surface nearby, they get the feeling that Megatron would be pushing them down on it right now, riding their sparks until they're begging for overload.

His spark is probably big enough that they can _both_ use it at the same time.

They look away, they have to repay Elita for the favor, and that means they give _all_ the information on what happened. No need for more blackmail than what's already happened. They press close to the gates, sending a text asking for entrance. The gates open almost instantly, and they gesture for the Decepticons to step in.

Blitzwing is toying with Starscream's wings while the seeker looks half wanting to shove the bot away and half wanting to shove against the bot to get used.

They hope that they _don't_ 'face in the garden, the twins can only imagine what the owners will charge for that.

It won't be easy withstanding the temptation, but they'll do their best.

The bot who greets them is painted a cheerful shade of red, with a bright yellow spoiler on his back. "Welcome to the Veredren garden. We appreciate your visit and hope to make this trip a memorable one for you all." The mech holds out a plate of delicate crystal shards. "Please, take a sample of our famous Kordol crystals to begin. They say that our particular breed is the most succulent and crisp of all. We've won several contests with them."

They each take one, Blitzwing putting the one for Starscream in the seeker's mouth for the bot. Orion and Optimus each feed the other, taking tiny bites of the crystal from their servos. The crystals are quite delicious, sweet and fresh, a pleasure for the glossa and dente. They both giggle at the taste softly, nuzzling together as they eat it.

Megatron hums softly, "Very wonderful, we'd love to see more."

The guidebot smiles and sets the tray aside. "Of course. We can begin right here." He lifts a servo to point at the high arches of crystal that stand on each side of the entrance gate. "These crystals were the very first that we obtained, as can be seen from their rather impressive size. They've been moved several times, and have seeded over a hundred new patches of crystals that we have generously sold or donated to other bots and groups." He smiles kindly, "You may touch any of the crystals here unless a 'do not touch' sign has been posted and a guard rope has been placed between the crystals and yourself."

This is all old news to Optimus and Orion, but they pay attention with half an audio as the guide goes through more of the rules and regulations. They vaguely note that they added in a no 'facing rule, while before that didn't even need to be mentioned. Orion leans against his twin, /_Do you think they added that because of Decepticons or because someone actually tried 'facing on the crystals?_/

Optimus smirks, /_I'd say because of the Decepticons, but can't you imagine if it really was because of someone 'facing here? No one would have been happy there._/

/_The 'facing bots could have been,_/ Orion points out.

Optimus shakes his head, /_All of these crystals are so spiky. You'd keep hurting yourself if you tried. It may not damage a Decepticon frame, though._/

Considering the way Blitzwing kept trying to push Starscream towards the larger clusters of crystals seemed to support that theory. It certainly didn't help that Starscream kept fluttering his wings and doing utterly obscene things with his glossa. It was like he _wanted_ to be pushed onto his back and used harshly by every bot present.

Orion steeled himself and decided not to look at Starscream more than he absolutely had to.

They step a little closer to Lugnut, thankful that the larger mech is doing the same thing as them, if for different reasons judging by the embarrassed blush on the bot's face. They nuzzle against him, loving how safe they feel next to the bot, and hold each other's servos a little tighter.

When they start going through the crystals, they barely pay attention. All of this is essentially what they saw before, but this time they aren't expected to look absolutely composed and alert while Elita fondles them.

Instead, they get to nuzzle each other, exchanging sweet, crystal-flavored kisses and servo-feeding each other every chance they get. It's been forever since they've had a chance to go on a date together, and it's nice, even if there are Decepticons with them.

Even when those Decepticons keep revving loudly every time Orion takes Optimus's fingers in his mouth to suck them clean of crystal dust.

They get to a special area that the guide says quietly, "Normally we don't allow bots in this area, but you are welcome to if you want. This is our collection of lacewing. Would you like to see it?"

Optimus and Orion would, but they aren't the ones who the tour is for, so they keep silent. They keep the looks of disappointment off their faces as Megatron waves a servo dismissively, "It would be better that we didn't. Blitzwing can't be trusted around it, Starscream will deliberately try to ruin it, and Lugnut just walks too heavily no matter how hard he tries."

Lugnut looks sparkbroken about that, and Optimus steps towards the tour guide. "Do you mind if Orion and I take a look? I think we could share the vid files with them after." He offers Lugnut an apologetic look, "I know it's not the same as seeing it yourself, but it's better than nothing, right?"

Hope flits across the larger Decepticon's face, and he nods shyly, "I'd like that."

The guide looks hesitant, then the brief blank look of dealing with text messages flickers across his face, and he nods. "You can. There is a guide inside to show you the best places to film it."

Megatron looks like he wants to say something, but then glances at Starscream rubbing against Lugnut, and says nothing. Orion and Optimus hold servos as they walk into the entrance way, door closing softly behind them. They blink in surprise at the sight that greets them, and then the guide steps in front of them, obstructing it. The bot whispers softly, "You need to be careful in here. Please put these on." They're handed something that looks like cloth sacks, "Those go on your peds so you step quieter."

Optimus and Orion shake their heads together, adjusting their systems the way the ninjabot tutor at the Academy had shown them. They take a few silent steps to demonstrate that they can, and the bot looks impressed. "You don't look like ninjabots."

Orion answers back just as quietly, "We aren't. It's the only ninjabot thing we managed to pick up when one volunteered to visit the Academy for a decacycle." And it had been slagging hard to learn. They'd ended up needing to practice for over a stellar cycle after the bot was gone to master it, but it was worth it to be able to go someplace silently if the need called for it.

The mech smiles, "It is always nice to see bots using the ninjabot walk." The cloths are taken from their servos, and they are guided closer to the lacewing. "You'll want to look at it from multiple angles, and we have holo-pictures of it in the giftshop as well."

They nod, moving around the delicate crystal cautiously; any sudden movement or noise means it could very easily crumble into dust. They can _not_ afford to do that, so they are careful to do nothing to distress it as they record.

One of the bots who very obviously cares for it watches them with distressed optics, very obviously unhappy that any bots are being allowed near his crystal patch. They maintain a respectful distance from the lacewing to honor him, even though it would be safe for them to move in closer. When they have a good video recording of the entire patch, including the delicate new crystals that have just separated from the patch to form a new branch, they step away.

"Thank you for allowing us to see this," Optimus says, tones hushed to prevent vibrations from damaging the crystal patch.

The bots smiles, voice just as quiet, "You're welcome. It is always nice to see bots that like to see things like this and know how to behave." They're lead back to the door, and gently pushed out the door.

They take several steps before pausing to readjust their systems so they're no longer walking silently. Always walking like that gives away an advantage, and they don't know _why_ ninjabots do it all the time. They ignore Megatron's inquiring look at their peds, and go straight to Lugnut. Looking up at the mech, they shutter their optics prettily, "Would you like to see it?"

"Please," Lugnut says, tapping his pincers together and shuffling his peds.

It's so tempting to offer to give him the file via direct cable link, but even linking cables to arm ports would be too intimate. They'd end up getting gangbanged by Decepticons, and slag if it isn't getting harder to remember _why_ that would be an utterly terrible idea. Right now it seems fantastic, like the best idea _ever_.

They beam it to the mech, cuddling closer together as they look up at him. There's a large servo suddenly on their shoulders, startling them. Megatron's amused voice comes from behind them, "When you're done flirting with Lugnut, I'd like to see it as well. And it would be nice to know where you learned to walk like ninjabots. I was unaware that academy students were allowed to devote time to going to a dojo."

They exchange a look, and beam the video to Megatron as they respond, "They aren't allowed. We learned on our own time from the instructions we were given during the brief visit by ninjabots."

"How industrious of you." Megatron brushes his fingers along Orion's shoulders. "Do you learn everything so quickly?"

Optimus pulls Orion away, kissing him passionately, with a little hint of sparkplate grinding. They break apart and smile at the watching Decepticons. "We're quick learners in most subjects. Especially interesting ones."

Blitzwing is looking at them with dim optics, and they don't even look at Starscream since it will just make them want to use the seeker's spark. They walk back next to Lugnut, who is looking at them cautiously, while Megatron comments softly, "Of that, I'm certain."

They follow the guide again, and Lugnut brushes large pincers against their frames, making them unconsciously lean into the touches. The touches get a little more bold, but they don't mind, not when they feel so much _safer_ with the mech than the other Decepticons. They do blink up at him in surprise when he rubs their headfins. He pinches the tips, and they gasp happily at the feel before pulling away reluctantly.

Lugnut smiles at them, blushing shyly, and they slowly drift back to his sides, allowing him to gently tease their frames, building their spark heat up steadily. They would have happily gone to his berth, willing to ignore their own decision to not frag the Decepticons, but Blitzwing saved them, rather unintentionally, by approaching in his Random face to coo at them.

"Ooh, Lugnut, zat is not fair! You must _share_ ze little berzbots with us." He flicks out an obscenely long glossa to curl around one of Orion's headfins, and the Autobot shudders and cries out at the skillful manipulation of such a sensitive part.

Optimus pulls his twin away, shuddering with pleasure as it gets transferred through their bond, and they both stay much further away from the Decepticon than before. They hold each other closer, giving the bots a dark look, "We are _not_ berthbots. And we will thank you not to use that term for us ever again."

Random pouts at them, scrambling over Lugnut's shoulder, "But you are boz _so pretty_. You would be even more when I overload you, ja?"

Megatron pulls the triple-changer off of the larger mech, "Behave, Blitzwing. Show some decorum, you _are_ on a diplomatic treaty mission with me. I could have just as easily have left you home."

Blitzwing flicks his glossa at Megatron, curling it around the point of one shoulder guard. Megatron shudders and stares pointedly at him until the bot pouts and withdraws his glossa from his frame. "Ze Autobots have ze most boring treaty missions, my lord. Zey do not even provide pretty bots for us to play wiz, and when zey do, zey say we cannot touch."

Megatron sighs, "Do I have to put a mouthclamp on you as well?"

There's a flip, and Icy raises an optic ridge, "I am not ze type for it, my lord."

The Decepticon leader squeezes the triple-changer's aft as he pushes the bot back to Starscream, purring out, "Sometimes I wonder."

Icy gives the bot a dirty look, making Megatron's engine rev softly, "You know I prefer my partners under me and in chains, my lord."

"I seem to remember you singing a different tune when I had you in my berth, chained down."

Icy's optics narrow. "Zat was only because you refused to unchain me, and you cheated by bringing Oil Zlick into ze room to play wiz us. Even chained down, I cannot dislike a 'face wiz him."

They were really learning more about Decepticon interfacing politics than they really wanted to.

They're glad when the guide nervously interrupts with, "And now for the last crystals of the tour! These are a special hybrid of silica and geode. I'm sure that you'll love it."

They wonder if they were given this as the last crystal because of the way it breaks into flakes and powder in their servos, making the twins lick it off each other. They don't really mind, but when they finish, they realize that _everyone_ is staring at them, making them nuzzle close to hide the faint blush on their faceplates. "It is very delicious."

The guide walks over to them with a tray filled with lots of various crystals, some they recognize as the messier ones they sampled through the tour. "Well, since we're in the giftshop now, and this is technically off-shift for me, let me give you this." The box is put in their servos gently, "How would you like to join me out at an energon shop that just opened next to us here? Dixosol, prehaps?"

They glance over at the Decepticons, gently pushing the tray back, "We're working right now, so we can't say yes or no."

The tray is put back in their servos, and they're glad for it, some of those were absolutely delicious and this means the gift wasn't dependent on the date. "Well, how about I give you my frequency, and you call me when you're off-shift?"

The frequency pings their systems before they can say anything, and they hide smiles. Such a forward mech with access to delicious crystals might be of use to them in the future. He's a pretty cute bot to boot, and they wouldn't mind sharing a berth some evening. "You were an excellent tour guide. I wish we could afford to visit more often," Orion says quietly, so the Decepticons won't overhear. "Especially if you were the bot to guide us."

The racecar's optics brighten happily, "Well, maybe I can do just that. My name's Hot Rod, I look forward to seeing you again." He walks off, moving just the right way to draw optics to his aft.

They appreciate the view before putting the crystals in their subspaces. Turning to the Decepticons, they smile brightly, "Is there anything we wanted from the giftshop before we go?"

Megatron's optics skim over them before nodding, "We'll finish buying what we want. Did you have anything in mind after this?"

"If you need fuel, we can stop at an energon shop," Optimus offers. "Or we could take you to one of the racetracks. The ones nearby are designed to accommodate even large-framed bots, so you would not be attempting to race on a narrow track." He ducks his head, "I'm not certain how much of a challenge it will be for bots who can fly, though."

Megatron glances at Starscream, and the way the bot is eagerly twitching his wings. "Perhaps that would be best."

They nod, optics looking at the floor, "Of course, Lord Megatron." They hold each other's servos as they wait for the Decepticons to finish picking over the crystals, comming ahead to make _sure_ that the bots can fly there, and vaguely wondering why Megatron is picking up a vial of lacewing powder. When the mechs are finished, they lead the bots out, and head to a racetrack. "We know the sky will be clear for you to be there, and you are allowed to go as high and fast as you wish."

The seeker looks as if he wants to thank them with his glossa, and they are supremely comforted that they are well out of his reach. Megatron smiles at them, "Do they offer refreshments at this track? You seemed quite eager for energon candy when we gave them to you this morning. I would like to purchase more for you."

Orion nods, somewhat reluctant to take more gifts from him. Especially sweets that will likely be very messy. "Yes. They do."

Megatron smiles, and it makes their sparks pulse against their will, "Good." The mech looks over at the seeker, "Do you think you can behave as we head over there, Starscream? Or will you continue to try to molest our... guides?"

Starscream's optics brighten, and the seeker moves against the Decepticon leader, wings fluttering prettily. Icy makes a disappointed sound, "I zink he should keep ze gag on. It isn't like he _needs_ to speak as he flies, ja?"

"Your opinion is biased, Blitzwing," Megatron brushes his fingers over Starscream's mouth, and the seeker obediently licks them. "If he can prove he can behave, it will stay off." He disconnects the gag. "The klik you start misbehaving, it goes back on."

Starscream works his jaw for a moment before dimming his optics, "Of course, my Lord. I would never think to disobey after one of your . . . lessons."

Megatron takes off the cuffs, kissing the seeker as they walk, "You're lucky I'm so very tolerant, Starscream, or you'd have to be... disciplined for such a obvious lie."

Optimus and Orion _really_ wish they weren't learning so much about Decepticons. Did Ultra feel the same when he spent so much time with them in order to maintain peace? They lean against each other, trying not to look as Starscream is fondled and touched in such an inappropriate manner in public.

The seeker is eating it up, of course, giving little theatrical moans and sighs of pleasure as his wings and aft are fondled. "Oh, my lord, you are such a kind leader."

Megatron cuffs his helmet. "I would rather you not compliment me in such an insincere fashion." He turns to the twins with a smile, "Is the track nearby? Starscream's sky-hunger is beginning to irritate."

_Beginning_ to? Orion points out a sign for the racetrack. "Just a few blocks away now."

Starscream's optics dim, "We'll be there even faster if we carry you two. You both have such _small_ leg lengths, and are practically running to keep up with our walk."

They shake their heads, "No thank you. We're fine how we are." They smile, "If you wish, we can transform to go faster."

Starscream flutters his wings, "I wouldn't advise it, Blitzwing _adores_ your model type's vehicle form. Unless you want to be held like that, you shouldn't risk it."

"Our model type isn't that unusual," Orion protests, and Blitzwing comes over, servos hovering just above them, twitching as he tries to restrain himself from fondling them.

"But zey are _so_ adorable. You fit perfectly into my arms and your little sparkplates are right zere on your front and so easy to access." He flips faces rapidly, finally settling back on Icy, who straightens and backs away from them.

They hold each other even closer, servos tightening, "We're only a little bit away, you can wait that long."

Megatron runs a servo along Starscream's wings, "Seekers are notoriously vulnerable to sky hunger, this one especially." The mech pinches the tips of the seeker's wings, "He's frustrating like that, but it means he's a _wonderful_ tactician in the air."

"And that you love 'facing me in the air," Starscream purrs. "It's exhilarating 'facing you, knowing that we could fall out of the sky if our thrusters give out when we overload." He slides his own claws along Megatron's armor, rubbing the sharp points of it. "It's also fun to do in space. Zero g is wonderful."

They really didn't need to know that.

They're thankful when they see the entrance to the track is in view, but don't bother pointing it out since the Decepticons would have seen it long before they did with the advantage of height. They _do_ hurry over, holding a hushed conversation with the bot in front to allow for smoother transaction as the Decepticons walk in. Stepping in after paying for all of them, they're relieved to see that all of the bots are up in the air in vehicle mode.

While it may be harder to keep them in line, it isn't like they had any control over them in the first place.

At least now they won't challenge the Autobots to any races. It's not fair to race a ground mode bot as an air model unless that grounder is one of the faster racecar models, or there are obstacles for both bots to navigate around.

As this course was not designed for air models, there are no air obstacles at all, which must make it very boring for the Decepticons.

Starscream seems to be enjoying it well enough.

They're slightly tempted to go on the track, but the threat of Blitzwing diving out of the air to pick them up keeps them from doing that. Leaning against each other in the bleachers, they watch as the Decepticons flit around. Well, as Starscream and Blitzwing flit around, Lugnut and Megatron are not the right model for that to be a nearly accurate description.

* * *

Please Review

I think this is my longest chapter for this fic. Not too long, right? I mean, I normally do a bit shorter, since I update daily. Do you guys like long or short chapters?


	6. Chapter 6

Transformers belongs to Hasbro

* * *

It is about a klik later that Megatron lands lightly in front of them, pointed peds touching the ground rather than landing as a spaceship. "Let's get you some of the candy here, shall we?"

They stand to guide him to the concession stand. "Optimus, Orion," the bot there says cheerfully. "No Sentinel or Elita this sol? Will you still be wanting our energon bars?"

Orion tips his head towards Megatron, "We are on duty right now. Perhaps something a little less-"

"I'm sure they would love a tray of whatever they normally get," Megatron interjects, holding out a credit pad. "If possible, give them something nicer than the normal."

The bot nods, "How large of a tray?"

Megatron smiles, optics dim as he looks at the twins, "The largest, I think. They still need to recover from that energon deprivation."

The twins keep from looking guilty or anything like that, this bot is the largest gossip they know, and that's going to be _all_ _over_ by the time they leave. They just hope the largest part about the gossip chain will be the fact that they're with Decepticons that are insisting on fueling them, rather than the fact that they were half offline.

When their tray is offered to them, it's too large for either bot to hold on their own, and Megatron takes it from them. "Come. I wouldn't mind sampling a few of these treats myself." He takes them back to the bleachers, and they sit down, one on either side of Megatron. They'd rather be together, but Megatron had insisted. They're pretty sure he intends to have them move up onto his lap to be together.

They're each handed a bar at first, and they each eat it cautiously, not really sure if this is what will be happening for each of them. They know they can't eat too many before they get overcharged, and hope _that_ isn't the plan.

At the next bar pulled out, Megatron sprinkles a light dusting of the lacewing over top of it, "I think you should share this one, and tell me what you think of it."

They glance at each other over his legs, and then crawl up onto his lap to share it.

He just put fragging _lacewing_ on it. They're not going to object to putting on a little show for him. Orion takes a bite when it's offered to him, and immediately moans, the delicate lacewing dust melting on his glossa, mixing with the energon treat in a way that makes him want to sprawl out and let the mech do whatever he wants to get more of it.

He's thankful his twin is there, so they can kiss and touch the entire way through the treat. They eat it slowly to draw it out, unwilling to eat it quickly, no matter _how_ delicious it is. They lick the other's servos clean, glossas flicking in finger joints to get it all. They end with a long drawn out kiss, each running their glossas in the other's mouth to get more of it.

Megatron's chest is very hot by the time they're done, and the other three Decepticons are landing to see what has their leader so distracted. Starscream leans chest to Megatron's back, rubbing against the larger bot as he says, "Want to try some more, little bots?"

They're pretty sure if they eat another that way they're going to be opened up and overloaded in public, which is not generally accepted in Autobot society. Decepticons may be all for public interfacing so long as sparklings aren't around, but Autobots don't take kindly to spark grinding where any bot can see you.

Not unless you're in special clubs for that sort of thing.

They look at each other nervously, trying to figure out a polite way to decline, when Megatron runs a servo on their frames, "I think that it would be a wonderful idea."

They shift unhappily, and are grateful when Lugnut taps his pincers together nervously, "My lord, we are getting quite close to the time to head to treaty discussions. I don't think that the Magnus will take kindly to us not showing up on time because of this."

Megatron frowns, "You are correct, Lugnut. We'll have to fly there to get in time." The mech smirks, "I apologize for this, Optimus and Orion," the bot nods to the wrong twin as he says their names, "but we'll _have_ to carry you if you want to be there. Do you have a preference?" Large fingers pet at their seams, "I was thinking that Lugnut and I could hold you."

"Could Lugnut carry us both?" Optimus squirms, moaning softly when the Decepticon leader rubs over his sparkplates. He really wants to flash his spark through his clear plates, but if they reveal they have a mod like that, Optimus thinks that the Decepticons might decide to _botnap_ them.

Better to resist the urge.

Megatron hums softly, "Only if Lugnut says he wants to." The mech looks over to the purple and green bot, "Would you like to hold them both?"

Lugnut blushes faintly, "I would not say no, my lord."

"Very well." They are handed over to Lugnut, and the tray placed in their servos, "Do put those away, I don't want to come visit you, only to find you both half starved again."

They tuck the sweets into their subspaces, and Optimus gives the vial of lacewing a longing look before turning to nuzzle his cheek against Lugnut's chest. The larger bot flushes again, his spark pulsing with a comforting warmth. "Thank you, Lord Megatron. We will be sure to stay properly fueled." _Now that you forced us to confess to the Magnus and seek his pity._ They're given pats on their frames by Blitzwing and Starscream, far more groping from the seeker, and they all take to the skies.

The very first thing they notice is that their frames are _not_ happy about this, tanks churning at the feeling of being so high up. They cling together, and press close to Lugnut in quiet terror, thankful for the mech's comforting spark so close to them. They imagine it would be _worse_ if they weren't being held by such a large bot with such a safe feeling spark.

At the same time, the speed feels fantastic, and they are caught feeling half-nauseous and half-elated the entire trip back. When they're placed on the ground at Autobot Command, Orion wants to kiss the ground with joy, but he stops himself. "Thank you for the ride back. We have more work to do-"

"No, you don't," the Magnus interrupts, and they spin around to face him. "You'll be settling in to your new quarters." His expression is weary, "I saw the work you've done on the datapad storage. I believe we owe you a pay increase for that job. I intend to discuss it with the finance department later."

They hold each other's servos tightly, "We're fine how we are, sir." Which is a blatant lie, they can't even afford energon, not with how they're saving for that paintjob.

Ultra gives them a flat look, "I've told you both it is unbecoming of a Autobot to lie. You will _not_ do it again." They keep from flinching, just holding servos even tighter. The Magnus rubs his optics, "Normally I'd tell you to come with me as we do the treaty, but this is far more important than that. I'm sure Lord Megatron can agree."

Megatron smiles, "Indeed, Ultra Magnus."

Ultra continues before Megatron can suggest coming /with/ the twins to the apartment, "You will be escorted by Ironhide to your new place."

The orange mech waits nearby-the Magnus has clearly planned this out in advance-and the twins turn to Megatron. "We hope your trip out this sol was pleasant. We have little experience as guides, but we hope that our services have made you appreciate Cybertron more."

Megatron arches an optic ridge at Orion's word choice. "Your . . . services have been excellent."

"Thank you, lord Megatron." The nod their heads at the bot, turning to Starscream and Blitzwing, "We hope you had a good time as well."

"Oh, we did, li-" Starscream glances over at Megatron and Ultra, "Optimus and Orion."

They move over to Lugnut, pulling the bot down before he can protest, and they each kiss him on the cheek. They would have kissed him on the mouth, but Ultra would have disapproved of that. "We are glad to have met you, Lugnut. We've never met a bot quite like you before." They wish they could have rubbed their plates against him, but they content themselves with nuzzling their faces against his.

A loud cough startles them away from Lugnut, and Ultra Magnus stares at them, utterly unapologetic. "You should go retrieve your things and settle in to your new quarters _now_, Minors."

They stand at attention and salute him, "Yes, sir," they say in unison, walking over to Ironhide. "We are ready to go whenever you are, Ironhide."

The mech nods, "Let's head down to the datapad storage, then?"

They glance at each other, "Unless the fold-out berth has been removed already."

Ironhide nods, "The apartment, then. That was already taken." The bot tilts his head, "Let's transform and rollout, then?"

They glance over to where Blitzwing is still standing, and shake their heads, "We'll walk for now."

When they're out of sight of the Decepticons, they transform down, and Ironhide laughs at them. "Did'ya have fun with the 'Cons? I was expectin' ya to come back with more paint on ya."

They rev playfully at him, "Are you jealous, 'Hide? You know we have our sparks set on you."

The bot rams into Orion's side, knocking him off track, "Shut yer faces. You've got a relationship with the Magnus _and_ Megatron right now. I think I rate pretty low on your 'to-be-'faced' list."

"The Magnus doesn't _want_ to 'face us, and Megatron isn't a safe bot to 'face at all," they say, moving so that each of them are on either side of the bot. "And you're just so _handsome_."

The mech sighs, "Yer both absolutely _horrible_, you know that?"

They make kissy noises, cuddling close and sing-songing, "We do."

Inside Autobot Command, things are sectioned into different parts used for different purposes. Some of the lowest levels of the base are intended as military quarters, and Optimus and Orion have been given a set of them. Ironhide enters them into the lock system for the rooms, and guides them inside.

"The Magnus set up a nice place for ya here. Got you one of the fully furnished places, with a berth large enough for him to come visit ya."

They blink at the place, amazed that there are room_s_. They're used to one room, and this is positively extravagant. "Is... is that a private washrack?"

Ironhide rolls his optics, "Yeah. It isn't very _big_, but ya got one."

They share a look of barely concealed excitement, they've _never_ had a private washrack. Even on Haydon IV with their creators, they all used the public washracks. "This is better than anything we could have hoped for!"

It's hard to believe this is only costing half of their pay. /_I think we should thank the Magnus for this,_/ Orion says to his brother, /_with our glossas. Maybe we can sneak into his berth._/

Optimus rolls his optics, /_That's a terrible idea. He'd just toss us out. And then we'd be back to square one._/ He pulls Orion into the washrack, "Go ahead and get going, Ironhide. We're going to test the washrack now." He flickers his optics, "Unless you'd like to _join_ us."

The mech snorts, heading to the door, "And get in trouble with the _Magnus_ for taking ya? Frag that."

They both blow kisses and and call out to him as he leaves, then go straight to the washrack. They need to test how good the solvent is.

With their sparks.

* * *

When they show up the next sol, they're amazed to see Ultra already there before them. The mech gives them a sad smile, "I have something I need to discuss with you in my office. Would you please join me?"

/_Frag. He's going to fire us after all, and just didn't want to do it in front of Megatron,_/ Orion curses, but keeps a neutral expression on his face as he nods. "Yes, sir." He links servos with Optimus-not the most professional of behavior for them, but certainly not the worst either.

The Magnus sits at his desk, servos folded on top of it. He gestures for them to sit in the chairs opposite him, and they do. "I was speaking with the financial department, and we found an . . . error in your pay."

Optimus's spark sinks. How the frag are they supposed to afford _anything_ with even fewer credits? Orion holds even tighter, somehow they manage to keep their voices from shaking, "Yes, sir?"

Ultra looks horribly upset, and they just want to _leave_. At least they won't have to go through this if they aren't there. A text message informing them they're fired and the paycheck they hoped for wasn't coming would be better than this. They fight the urge to just stand up and go.

The Magnus sighs sadly, "You've been working every sol but the ones that I told you that you weren't allowed to be here, correct?"

They nod reluctantly, that is grounds for being fired, and their sparks sink. They're going to be fired for working _too_ _hard_, even though they kept up with the schoolwork in addition to this. "Yes, sir," they murmur softly.

"It's worse than I thought, then," Ultra sighs. "You've been underpaid. There was a mistake in the accounting computers, and the pay you've received has been less than a fourth of what you should be earning. And that was the pay rate you'd have been making if you'd been working the number of sols you were supposed to, and not doing nearly twice that much. That goes on top of the fact that the tasks I've been assigning you-unknowingly or not-are tasks that deserve a higher pay-grade."

They give Ultra a shocked look, "Y-you _aren't_ firing us?"

Ultra gives them a stunned look, "What? Why would I-" The bot shakes his head, "You are _not_ being fired. Get that thought out of your processors. You're getting a pay raise and the back wages you're owed. Especially since you're still going to be working on sorting the datapads. It is no wonder you were almost starving when if that's what you were being paid."

They give each other a cautious look, "I-if you say so, sir. Are we _just_ going to be doing the datapad sorting?" The thought makes their sparks clench, if they _are_, they won't be able to get near Ultra at all.

The Magnus sighs softly, "You are both the best secretarybots I've _ever_ had. I also hired you to be my secretary, even if it wasn't my idea at first." The mech looks them in the optics, "But if you'd like to just work in the datapad sorting, I will not tell you no."

"No," Orion objects, "no, we like working with you. There are two of us, and you really don't need both of us working as your secretary at the same time. The arrangement we have going will work just fine for us, if it will work for you as well."

The Magnus nods, "It will." He slides a datapad across the desk, and a credit transfer pad as well. "This is your renegotiated pay, and the amount of backpay you are owed."

Optimus stares at both with wide optics. "Sir, secretarybots are _not_ paid this much."

"Mine are."

They both look up at the Magnus, absolutely stunned. After a bit, they finally get themselves together, "Thank you, sir. We'll get right to work."

Ultra raises a servo to stop them from getting up, "Take the sol off. You overwork yourselves terribly." They're about to protest when the Magnus frowns at them, "I know that you were working far into the night before. You won't be doing that now. I want you to be fully rested each sol."

Sheepishly, they duck their heads and agree. "Yes, sir. We'll come to work fully rested."

It's not like they _want_ to stay up late reorganizing pads if they don't have to. It's tedious, dull, and fragging complicated, now that they've made their way into harder dialects.

"Get going. I don't want to see you in the office until tomorrow," the Magnus scolds them, shooing them out of his office. "I expect you to be on time, and properly fueled."

They pause at the door, looking back shyly, "Should we com you and tell you when you should leave, sir? We know you work too hard, as well."

The Magnus looks like he's about to tell them no, but then nods, "It would be hypocritical of me to tell you to do this, but refuse to allow you to tell me the same. If you think it is something that is needed, you are allowed to tell me to stop working and go home."

They flicker their optics prettily, "Yes, sir."

He wags a finger at them, "If you're using it to send me home whenever you feel like it, I have the right to ignore you."

They flush. Their intention had been more along the lines of getting him home so they could frag his spark, but they'll let him think otherwise if he wants. "Yes, sir."

Orion pulls his brother out of the room before the Magnus can add any more rules. /_Holy slag, Optimus. Are we really going to be earning that many credits for the next vorn?_/

/_No_,/ Optimus corrects him, /_We'll be earning that credit level until we finish in the datapad storage. After that, we'll drop back down to secretary pay, although that's still quite a bit more than we were expecting._/

They pull each other close, giggling softly as they head out of the headquarters, /_What should we do with our sol off?_/

Optimus shrugs, pressing a tiny kiss to his twin's lips, /_We still have to talk to Elita. She's going to demand to know everything that happened while we were with the Decepticons._/

/_I don't want to talk to Elita right now._/ Orion makes a tiny face, /_Do you?_/

/_Not really, she'll try to shove us down and use our sparks when we tell her we didn't 'face any of them. __She's very pushy, and I don't want to deal with a femme._/

/_We could contact Hot Rod. I bet he'd like to take us out on a date. Racecars are always fun in the berth, too._/ Orion nuzzles against him. /_We've got the credits to hit someplace NICE for celebration._/

Optimus nods, and adds, /_I wouldn't say no to going out someplace tonight. It could be fun._/

Orion beams, /_Do you want to com him, or should I? See if he has the sol off, or if we need to wait until later._/

/_I think we both should, so he remembers us. Racecars give their frequencies out to pretty much anyone that catches their optics. We want him to remember WE'RE special._/

Orion nuzzles into his brother, /_I don't think he'd have forgotten us in just a single sol. He got us that tray of crystals._/

/_A delicious tray of crystals. Perhaps we can thank him by . . . sharing them with him._/ Optimus presses his fingers to his temple, waiting for Hot Rod to pick up.

"Hello?" the bot asks, unsure of the identity of his caller.

"Hello, Hot Rod," Optimus purrs over the line. "I hope it's not too soon to call about that date."

"_Never_," comes the enthusiastic reply, and both twins grin at each other, having connected up so they can both talk. "Just... who is this?"

They both make a mock disappointed sound, "You don't remember us? We're hurt. You'd think we'd stick in your processor, but maybe you see things like that every sol."

They can almost hear the ping of recognition and the mech thinking 'The hot twins!' making them giggle softly. "Of course I do, but you never actually told me your _names_."

"We didn't? How remiss of us, Hot Rod. Well-" they stop talking in tandem.

"I'm Optimus."

"And I'm Orion."

They return to talking together, "It's okay if you can't tell the difference in our voices."

"We do have the exact same model of vocal processor, after all," Orion purrs. He shares a sly look with Optimus, and adds, "Means we sound the same in the berth, too, you know? But I'll share a little secret with you, Roddy. Optimus has a ticklish spot that I don't."

Optimus elbows him sharply, "I do _not_."

Hot Rod chuckles, "Well, we'll have to wait until I get off work to find that out. My creators expect me to stay here at least three megacycles a sol."

They make soft disappointed sounds, "How much longer until we can go out?"

There's a soft laugh on the other side of the line, "At least three megacycles. You're welcome to come visit and take a tour again. I can show you some things that we didn't before."

They mock gasp, "You keep crystals hidden from the leader of the Decepticons when he came to visit?"

"We kept it hidden when we saw he brought a seeker in a berthbot gag."

"Oh, how naughty, Rod. Are you going to show us your cora collection?" Optimus pulls Orion close to him, trying to stifle his twin's quiet laughter. "I love to see a good cluster of cora."

The bot on the other end laughs for them, "Sure, if you want. Not sure why big patches of blue and purple cora do it for you, but you're welcome to pay them a visit when you're over."

They giggle happily, "We'd love to see it. Should we head right over, or do you want us to wait the three megacycles?"

"You're welcome to come right over, but it will be a little boring. You went to the racetrack after visiting us that first time, you can wait over there, and I can escort you back to my place when I'm done."

"Your creators work in the garden?" Optimus asks, curious about why they expect him to stay there every sol.

Another laugh, "Hardly. They _own_ the garden, and our home is attached to it. I'm working here until I can convince them to let me join the Elite Guard."

The guidebot was from a wealthy family, then. How unexpected. Most wealthy bots did not make their sparklings do any work at all.

They smile at each other, "We'd love to see you at the racetrack, then. Com us when you're done working."

"Of course. I look forward to seeing you again." The bot disconnects, and they giggle at each other.

They change the course they were using slightly, going more directly to the racetrack. /_I wonder who will be there. They'll be surprised to see us, won't they?_/

Due to their credit situation, they'd never gone to the track two sols in a row. /_Maybe they'll think we've decided to start selling our sparks on the side? I know a few of them would pay for it here._/

A few of the bots on the racetrack had flat-out _offered_ to pay for the privilege of 'facing them. It had always been the last resort back-up plan, if they could not earn credits any other way.

They're glad it's never gotten that bad.

* * *

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	7. Chapter 7

Transformers belongs to Hasbro

* * *

They make it to the racetrack fairly quickly in vehicle mode, glad to be able to stretch their wheels without worrying about using too much fuel for the first time since Ultra offered to take them out to the play. At that thought, Orion frowns when they get to botmode to pay to get in, /_Do you think Ultra is still going to take us to the play?_/

/_I hope so. I think he would have told us if he'd changed his mind._/ Optimus revs his engine with joy, /_We'll be able to afford a GOOD paintjob with this, sweetspark. Something with glitter in it, but not tacky._/

Orion brushes against his side as they head out onto the track, happy to get a chance to actually use it this time. /_Maybe some seam detailing too. You know, when they paint the seams a shade darker to make them more visible?_/

Optimus beams, /_We can actually do it, too. Since we have all that backpay just sitting in our account._/

/_We'll look FANTASTIC._/ Orion squeezes servos as they walk, /_I'm so glad that Megatron found us there, since this is what happened._/

Optimus nods, /_We won't tell him that, though. He'll take that as an invitation to drag us to the berth. As much as I'd like that, you remember what Megatron said about METALMIST, right Lightspark?_/

His twin prods at him, /_So you think you're the slutty-sparked twinbot? I would have thought that was me. Sparkdrive seems more my type,_/ he flickers his optics at a passing bot, /_don't you think so, Lightspark, the eternally optimistic?_/

Transforming down, Optimus scoffs, /_If he had any idea what kinds of things I've convinced you to do in the berth, he wouldn't make you the slutty twin._/

Orion transforms with him, and they both take off, side by side, /_Because it fits you so well OPTIMUS. Kup could tell instantly you're so cheerful, that he named you that._/

/_While you shine like a star, Orion._/ They tap together prettily for a passing bot, /_We could ask Ultra when we see him in his office._/

/_To remind him we know he likes us. We'll just need to wear him down, and he'll accept that we'll be wonderful in his berth._/ Orion pauses, and Optimus has to stop to stay in the same place, /_We can return to our plan about talking about mods in front of him now! Since he knows how much work we're doing, and that we have disposable income!_/

Optimus rubs against his side in a way that he knows will draw the optics of every bot around them, /_If we save up credits for a little while, we can even AFFORD to get a mod. Maybe something for our peds? Heels would look nice._/

Orion knocks into him a little harder, /_I'm not relearning to walk just because you want some heels so bots will look at your aft more often._/

They start driving again, /_But they'll go with the possible wing mods you want._/

Orion taps against him, /_We'll save this discussion for Ultra. We can decide based on what he seems to __think is best._/

/_Maybe he'll like both._/

/_Maybe he'll like neither, and want to put back sparkplates on us._/

Optimus shudders, /_I don't know if I want those. It would be better if HE got them if we get with him. I wouldn't mind being in the middle, but it would be better that way._/

/_Mm_,/ Orion moans, engine revving. /_Slag, it'd be hot having Ultra between us. But we'd have to worry about him collapsing on one of us depending on how we were positioned._/ Another teasing brush against his side-they were never much for racing, so much as staying together on the track, /_Which is why if anyone gets backplates, it'll be you. Then they'll finally be able to tell us apart._/

Optimus pushes against his twin, /_YOU would be the one with the backplates._/

Orion pushes back, /_You'd think that, but you'd LOVE to have the plates so you can be used more easily._/

They keep pushing against each other, Optimus rubbing a little harder, /_You just said you're the slutty twin, so obviously you'd be the one with the backplates._/

/_You said you're the slutty twin, too! You're the one with the backplates._/ Optimus slams into him hard enough to send Orion flying, and he transforms mid-air to land on his peds, more or less. It's not a terribly dignified landing, but he didn't end up hitting the road face or aft-first, so he counts it a win. "Slagger," Orion growls, brushing dust off of himself. "You dented me, right before a date."

Optimus stands up, "_I_ dented you? Look at _me_!" His twin moves to show a scrape on his side, "This is all your fault."

Orion crosses his arms, lifting his head snottily, "You take back what you said."

Optimus scowls, "You accused it of _me_, I'll say it all I want."

"Fragger," Orion mutters, going over to pull Optimus off the track. "You're gonna smooth this dent out before Roddy shows up."

Optimus digs his heels in, making it harder to move him, "Only if you polish up the scrapes you left all over me."

Orion makes a face at him, picking his twin up, "Fine, whatever. Let's get off the track."

Optimus sticks out his glossa, moving so his arms are behind Orion's head, and his legs around his waist, "You're terrible."

They kiss softly as Orion walks off the track, nuzzling lovingly. "When we're done, should we get a energon bar from the stand?"

"Slutbot," Optimus teases, kissing him again. "Will you feed it to me with your servos?"

Orion carries him to the concession stand, "Dunno, Optimus. Maybe I'll make you work for it. Bet you'd like that, huh?" He smiles at the bot in the booth. "One energon bar, please. With some nice crystals in it."

The bot gives them a odd look, but hands them what they ordered. They pay for it, and Optimus breaks it in half before tearing one half in tiny pieces to slowly feed Orion as he's carried to the bleachers.

When they sit down, Optimus presses a tiny kiss to his twin's lips, "I'm glad we can do this by ourselves for once. Even if I'm looking forward to our date."

Orion's optics light up in delight, "We're having a _date!_ Not just being with Sentinel or Elita. An actual _date_."

It's been so slagging long since they've been on a real date. "If you forget how to be a decent bot, I'll do my best to beat some manners back into you," Optimus teases in between the bites his twin feeds him, and he curls up on Orion's lap. "Gonna work on patching me up now?"

Orion prods him. "You can fix my dent _first_."

Optimus runs his fingers along his brother's frame, "I _could_, but I don't want to. You should give me more candy first." He opens his mouth, sticking out his glossa invitingly.

Orion taps the glossa, and Optimus sucks on his finger. "You have enough, you should fix me _first_."

He nibbles on the finger, shaking his head, /_You_ _first_./

/_We could do it together,_/ Orion offers, rubbing one long paint scrape with his servo. /_Would get more bots watching us, too._/

Optimus pulls a smoother out of his subspace and flicks it on. /_Works for me._/ They nuzzle each other and exchange little kisses while they repair the damage their roughhousing had done. Every bot who passes them revs a little, and they hide their smirks by making their kisses increasingly filthy, glossas flashing lewdly between their mouths.

They finish slowly, nuzzling each other when they're done. Curling up together, they look at the bots, who suddenly realize what they're doing and avoid looking. Aside from a few, who come closer. One of the racecars slinks up next to them, "Optimus, Orion, it isn't often that we see you here alone."

They look at the mech, shuttering their optics prettily, "We didn't know we were _ever_ alone." They cuddle a little closer together, kissing softly, "I couldn't imagine being without my brother."

The racecarbot sits beside them and slings a friendly arm around Orion's shoulders. "Did Sentinel and Elita finally run out of credits to afford you? You're better off with a bot who can keep you fueled up and ready for 'facing all the time." _Like_ _me_, the bot doesn't have to add, since his leer does it for him.

Optimus removes the arm, using the tips of his fingers to take it off of Orion, and they say, "Sometimes bots just want to spend time at the racetrack."

The mech raises an optic ridge, having enough sense not to put the arm back - unlike Sentinel would have - and nods, "Understandable. Would you like to spend some of that time with me?"

They shake their heads, "We're already with someone." They flicker their optics, "Each other."

"If you change your minds and want a little action, I'll be out on the track," the mech smiles at them, expression utterly filthy with how blatant he is in his lust for them. But they're used to mechs and femmes doing that.

"We'll be sure to remember that," Orion promises, then says to Optimus, /_So we can know what places to avoid. Bot probably has more viruses in him than a streetwalking bot._/

Optimus nods, cuddling closer, /_At least he accepts when we tell him no._/

/_About the only good thing about him._/

They nuzzle each other, and Optimus scoffs, /_The other bots realized we're not interested, at least._/

They kiss softly, and Orion sighs, /_About how much longer until Roddy shows up?_/

/_He should be calling any klik now,_/ Optimus grinds his sparkplates against his brother's for a moment, and is interrupted by the call they are expecting. He presses his fingers to his temple to accept it. "Hello, Roddy. I hope you're calling to tell us that you're on the way here."

A startled laugh answers him, "Are you a processor-reader now?"

They smile, and Orion answers, "Of course. The very best. We know you're bringing us a few crystals for us to eat in front of you, too."

There's a mock gasp, "How did you know?"

They giggle, "_Magic_."

"Would you like me to come in to the racetrack and we spend time there, or would you like to come out and we go straight back to the garden?"

"Come to the racetrack." Orion wants the other bots to see that they can do _much_ better than them. Hopefully it'll cut back some of the 'so I heard you were whorebots' type of flirting. At the very least, it'd make those bots assume the twins were out of their price-range.

"Will you meet me just inside the gate?"

They hum an affirmative, "We'd love to."

They're standing up as Hot Rod says, "I'll be there in a bit. Look forward to seeing you again."

They disconnect the call, walking to the front while holding servos. When they get to the front, they can see Hot Rod in vehicle mode a little ways off, and approaching quickly.

/_Think he's fast in everything he does?_/ Orion asks casually, adjusting his stance to one more appealing to the optic.

Optimus bites his lip, mock-shy as Hot Rod transforms and comes closer. /_I hope not. Nothing worse than a half-klik long frag because your partner can't hold out._/ He pauses, eyeing the racecarbot speculatively, /_Unless that partner can overload again right after. That's always nice._/

/_That IS delicious. Having a spark overload over and over against our's._/

They step a little closer, and Hot Rod steps into the track after paying. The bot walks over to them cautiously, and they smile. It is good to know the mech doesn't just automatically assume that because they accepted a date that means they're assured arm candy. They move close, each putting an arm around the mech's waist and saying, "Did you miss us?"

"I haven't known you long enough to miss you," the racecar admits, and his engine revs when the twins tease his armor seams, "but I am happy to see you again. I was not expecting a reply from you so quickly."

Orion rests his head on Roddy's shoulder, "We were discussing you, and couldn't get you off of our processors. The obvious solution was to take you somewhere for the evening."

The racecar lets out a bark of laughter, walking over to the racetrack, "If you say so." The bot looks unsure if he should kiss them, and they take care of that by moving in to kiss him one after the other, trade him back and forth as they walk to the bleachers. Hot Rod is venting when they sit down. "Did... did you want to race?"

They nuzzle into him, "We aren't really made to race. We can watch as you race, or we can stay together if you're willing to go slower."

"I," Hot Rod pants, "think I should take a lap or two by myself, but I would be honored to drive with you afterwards."

Orion smiles brilliantly at him. "Then we have a plan. Go, race, and we'll come join you after you get your racecarbot need for speed out of the way." He flickers his optics, "It'll be more fun if we have the ability to keep up with you."

The racecar nods, getting up, and taking off to the track. They lean against each other, watching the bot transform. /_Do you think we'll keep being with him after this date?_/

Orion shrugs, /_If we do, we'll have to make it clear we have our optics on the Magnus, just like we did with Sentinel and Elita._/

Optimus kisses his twin, glossa flicking briefly, /_That might scare him off._/

/_It's his choice if he wants to stay or go after that. I'm still surprised that so many leave after we tell them that. You'd think they would have thought our goal was hopeless._/

/_Or they think we have a good shot at it because we're slagging hot twins and we're already pretty close to the Magnus, just by being in the Academy. Closer now._/ Optimus's optics dim. /_Close enough __to grope his aft, if I wasn't worried about being written up for sexual harassment._/

Orion hums softly, /_I wish he'd grope OUR afts. Or bend us over his desk when we show up with his energon or tell him to go home._/

They kiss, glossas intermingling, and Optimus rubs their sparkplates together for a moment, /_He's far too noble for that. I bet if we didn't have each other, we'd act a lot like that._/

Orion shudders, /_And then we'd NEVER get him. Too busy waiting for the other to make the first move._/

/I_t's better this way. Hotter, too._/ Optimus gropes Orion's aft. /_Look at Roddy on the track out there. I don't think he's paying attention to the race at all. Keeps swerving all over every time we kiss or fondle each other._/

Orion laughs, /_Well, it is a pretty nice sight. Remember when we recorded ourselves 'facing? It was hot watching it afterwards together. We look so good together._/

Optimus smirks, /_Narcissist_./

Orion tisks at him, /_You're one to talk, twin brother of mine._/

He pulls Orion close, kissing him deeply, /_You're right. Glass houses and all that._/

They both pause to look when there's cursing coming from the track. It seems that every bot _but_ Hot Rod got caught in a pile-up, and the only reason Roddy isn't in it is because he clearly jumped free of the other cars. They rev at that, it means that the bot is _very_ good at sparring.

They stand up, walking down to the racecar with dim optics. Now would be a very good time to cover him in kisses and get him revving again.

Hot Rod glances back at the damage on the track with a flush on his cheeks. "Should we call for any medicbots?"

The twins drape themselves over the racecarbot, servos rubbing along his frame, pretending to inspect him for damage. "You look just fine," Optimus hums, leaning in to claim his mouth with a kiss.

Orion purrs, "You look more than fine," and arches up to nibble on Roddy's spoiler, dragging his glossa up one edge.

The racecar blushes, "We should call for help, if they need it."

Optimus nuzzles the mech's neck, "They're fine. See?" He points at the pile of bots, who are moving apart, clearly disappointed they went for Hod Rod rather than one of them. "Would you like to sit with us while this gets sorted out? We'd love to try those crystals you brought us."

Roddy nods reluctantly, and they pull him to the bleachers. Orion runs a servo over the racecar's aft, "Will you be feeding us?"

The mech squeaks in the most adorable way ever, which only prompts Orion to touch his aft again.

Roddy pulls away, trying to get his aft out of their reach, "I can feed you if you like, but there's no need to indulge me in that. You're adult mechs and you don't need to be servo-fed." He flushes darker, "Unless you want that."

They sit beside him, nuzzling the racecarbot. "We want that."

The bot pulls a small tray out of his subspace, and they blink in surprise when they see a tiny sprig of lacewing. The mech smiles at them, "I can see what caught your optics, but do you know what it tastes like?"

They nod, holding closer to him, "Megatron put some on a energon bar, and had us eat it."

Hot Rod's optics blaze with lust, "Oh, I can imagine that he did. But the only thing our shop sells is the powder. I doubt you've ever had a lacewing crystal." He reaches down and ever so gently snaps the tiny sprig of crystal in half, his motions so precise that the crystal does not crumble to dust. "Open your mouths and I will feed it to you. I would offer it another way, but if you don't know how to handle it, it always turns to powder."

They give him wide opticked looks, but open up obligingly, glossas flat to encourage him to place it on them. When the bot does, the crystals melt slowly, and they can't help the soft, happy mewling that escapes their vocal processors, rubbing against Hot Rod as the deliciousnous slowly melts down their throats. They hold on to him closely, nuzzling into him. "You give us such _wonderful_ things, and you didn't even have the sense of mind to feed this to us on a _berth_."

Roddy's engine revs, "Well, I can think about that for next time."

"Oh, please do," Orion purrs, sliding his fingers up to play with Roddy's spoiler. He gives it a sharp little tug, and the bot's engine _roars_ loudly enough to attract the attention of any bot that wasn't _already_ watching them. He loves high performance engines. Racecarbots can get so _loud_.

It's a good thing their quarters back at Command are sound proof, although it would be terribly unprofessional to take Hot Rod back for the evening.

They nuzzle into him, and the mech's optics flicker. "I think the track is open again. Let's go racing."

They smirk at each other, "We couldn't hope to keep up with you, remember? We can wait here as you go again."

Hot Rod glances at both of them, clearly realizing that if he does, it will be a repeat of the pile up. "No. How about we do a few laps around the track?"

Hot Rod doesn't seem to be aware of the kind of teasing they are capable of, even in vehicle mode. "Alright." The twins stand and link servos, descending the bleaches to make their way to the track. Hot Rod follows along behind them, and Optimus would bet a stellar cycle's wages that the bot is staring at their afts, imagining the hot interfacing they're going to get up to later that evening.

They make it to the track, transforming into truckmode. They make room between them, and Roddy slips in, almost reluctantly. They move close, leaning against him, "How many laps would you like to do with us?"

The bot heads forward, "How does three sound?"

They purr their engines, "If that's what you want. If you need to take off to take care of your need for speed, we'll understand." They nuzzle against him, "Just tell us first."

Hot Rod's engine revs loudly again, and if the twins weren't so experienced making bots rev for them, they'd worry about the pitched whine. It's not a failing engine part-just the effect of being revved constantly around them. They're attractive bots with hot sparks, and they aren't ashamed of it. "Do you want to go a little faster?" Orion asks, picking up a bit of speed.

The racecar goes a little faster, matching them easily, "Of course I would."

They go even faster, and Optimus comments, "We can go at our top speed on this track for all three laps if you want."

Hot Rod revs loudly, "Could we?"

They pick up the pace, "Of course."

Other bots come up alongside them occasionally, but the twins skirt away from them. On occasion, they enjoy multiple bots in their berth, but tonight they want Roddy. Well, they want Ultra Magnus, but they will enjoy Roddy in his place. The bot is sweet and has that familiar sort of nobility in him, and in the way he's treated them so far.

They make it all the way around three times, and they could possibly make it around it one more time, but their engines will hate them in the morning. They slow down to a stop, and transform, leaning against Roddy. "What would you like to do now?" They press little kisses to his lips before allowing him to respond.

"We could... go visit the garden?"

They smile, nuzzling against him, and gently pulling him off the track, "If that's what you want to do, then we want to, too."

/_And then we can visit his berthroom after. He did say his home was attached to the garden._/ Optimus smirks across Roddy's shoulders at Orion. /_Then we can show this sweet bot a good time. Of course, if he's up for a roll in the crystals, I won't say no to that either. He should know which ones are flat enough to be comfortable for bots our size._/

Orion winks at him, /_Sounds like we've got our plan for the evening, then._/

* * *

Please Review

I hope you guys like Rodimus, because we do. He's great and not going away. Just so you know o3o


	8. Chapter 8

Transformers belongs to Hasbro

* * *

A few sols later, Optimus and Orion are tucked in a corner in the datapad stacks, hoping they won't be seen. /_This is your slagging fault, Orion. I told you to stay out of Elita's sight, and you go and schedule a meeting for Ultra with Botanica? You fragger._/

/_Shut up._/ Orion peeks above the stacks before ducking down.

/_I'm not shutting up, you shut up. This is ALL YOUR FAULT, and you know it. What if someone goes to the desk and finds it empty?_/ Optimus glares angrily, prodding his brother.

/_I said shut up. I put up a 'back in two breems' sign, and the console routes to the com down here, anyway._/ Orion sticks out his glossa.

Otimus pokes Orion again, /_And what if she coms us? Then she'll know exactly where we are_./

Orion slaps his servo away, /_Stop that._/

"Hello? I was hoping you could help me find a datapad in-" the voice at the front of the storage stops. "They aren't here? I could have sworn Cliffjumper told us that Optimus was scheduled to be working here right now."

"Perhaps he is shelving pads in the back?" another bot asks, and their voices seem vaguely familiar to Optimus.

Orion and Optimus share a confused look, before shuffling quickly to look like they're taking inventory of the pads. Best to at least _look_ busy, and pretend they didn't hear, just in case Elita is with whoever the bots are.

They are joined after a bit by who could only be the Decepticon ambassadors Shockwave and Longarm. The nonidentical twins blink at them before Longarm smiles brightly, red optics bright, "There you are! Do you know where we could find the ancient Cyb-"

Orion glances round the shelves nervously as Optimus holds a finger to his mouth, "Shh. We're hiding from someone." They point behind them, "All of the ancient Cybertronion datapads are further back. How _old_ do you want it to be? If it is old enough, we likely haven't gotten to it yet, but it is much more likely that if it is that old, you can't understand it anyway."

The smaller bot smiles brightly at them-seeing as he is the only one of the pair with a mouth, that's not surprising. "Oh, don't underestimate us. Shockwave is excellent at translation." He leans in and whispers, like he was sharing some grave secret, "It's all the hacking he does. Makes him very good at breaking codes, and ancient languages are nothing more than codes we've forgotten to speak."

Orion blinks at him. " . . . if you say so."

They hear a sound from the front, and Elita's voice distinctly calling out, "Orion, and Optimus. Where the frag are you?"

Their optics widen, and they grab the two mechs' arms, pulling them along. "We can show you anywhere you'd like to go. Even the off-limits downstairs. It isn't off-limits if at least one of us is with you, after all."

Shockwave looks down at them as they walk, "I suppose it would be nice to see if it is down there. It is a pretty old dialect."

They nod, pulling a little more. Optimus asks in a hurried tone as they hear Elita calling for them again, "Exactly _how_ old?"

"Ancient," Shockwave says, his tone amused as they follow the Autobots down to lower levels. "So, this was where you were recharging before my lord discovered you? I must say that I am quite pleased he found you recharging here, so you would not have to do so any longer."

Orion shivers as claws brush against his shoulder, and is about to protest the touch when the other Decepticon does it for him.

"Really, Shockwave, please keep your servos to yourself. They aren't minibots."

The fact that the mechs _wouldn't_ stop if they were minibots makes them glad that most of the minibots are kept well away from the ambassadors, and glad that Cliffjumper had volunteered to be their secretary.

They head further down the room, "This is about thirty million stellar cycles ago. Is this about what you need?"

They look at the datapad, humming softly, "We need one that says spike sucking whore of a fragger do you have any like that?"

They give the bots flat looks, "If you wanted one like that, we could have stayed upstairs. Pretty much _all_ of the older datapads have that sort of thing written randomly in the margins."

"No, no," Longarm smiles. "We need one that has that in the _text_. Not the margins. Considering the censorship that occurred during various eras, we're not certain we can find one. It's for a thesis, you see, and-"

Shockwave presses claws to Longarm's mouth. "They aren't interested in your papers, sweetspark."

Longarm narrows his optics at his twin and mutters something behind his claws.

Optimus starts to rifle through a pile of datapads that they've only begun to try sorting. "You might have luck with this lot. The author is pretty profane in them."

Shockwave's optic widens, moving closer to Optimus, claws uncomfortably close, "You can _read_ them?"

He backs up, not wanting to be held by the creepy mech, "Of course we can. We wouldn't be any good at sorting them if we couldn't. We can't really speak it very well, but we're hoping the play we're going to see with the Magnus will help with that."

The claws brush along his frame, and he's closely scrutinized along with Orion by Longarm. The smaller Decepticon asks curiously, "How much of this do you know?"

Orion keeps from making a face as they back up, "We're good enough to organize the datapads, but I wouldn't call us fluent by any means."

"You have more of a mastery than bots a hundred times your age," Shockwave hums, moving closer to them still, his claws drifting over Orion's sparkplates before returning to Optimus. "I would be interested in having you . . . help with translation. It would be a wonderful act of diplomatic outreach between our peoples."

Optimus shudders, uninterested in 'facing a bot that he's positive will hack him if they link cables. "As I said, we are not fluent by any means, and you would be better suited with another bot more versed in the language."

Longarm nuzzles against Orion, optics dim, "And you are _still_ better versed than bots far older than you. We are quite interested i-"

There's the sound of a door slamming, and the angry yell of, "Optimus and Orion. I know you're in here!"

/_Oh thank Primus_/, they tell each other at the same time before calling out, "You're right, Elita. Would you come here?"

The Decepticons reluctantly step away at the sound of her heels on the floor coming closer, and the moment she's in sight, Orion and Optimus dodge behind her, looking over her shoulders at the Decepticons nervously.

Neither Decepticon looks pleased at being thwarted in their attempts to get the both of them in the berth, but they-or rather, Longarm-smile at Elita-1. "Thank you for the help finding the correct datapads, Optimus, Orion. It was very kind of you."

"It's our job," Optimus says firmly, before yelping when Elita clamps a clawed servo down on his forearm.

"If you'll excuse me, Decepticon delegates, my mechs and I need to have a word in private."

They glare at her when they're dragged off, "We're not _your_ mechs. You have Sentinel. _He_ is your mech."

She barks out a laugh as they head upstairs, "You're my mechs, and you should know this already. You knew that when you accept what I do with you."

They give her flat looks, "We told you when you first started 'facing us what we're doing. We are _not_ your mechs."

She pushes them into a chair, Orion on Optimus's lap, "It's cute how you think you have a choice. Now then, you've been _avoiding_ _me_. You will tell me what has been going on."

Orion wraps himself around his brother and they both go defiant and quiet. Quiet until she viciously pinches their headfins.

"Ouch, Primus, stop it!" Orion complains, knocking her servos away. "Fine, fine, we'll talk. Nothing has been going on. We're living here at Command now in the officer's quarters. We're still working for Ultra Magnus, and we served as escort for the Decepticons a while back."

She narrows her optics at them. "You're hiding something. I've been hearing rumors that you were suffering energon deprivation. You know what that does to a femme's reputation if her mechs are starving?"

They hold together tighter, giving her a defiant look, "Then it's good that we _aren't your mechs_."

She prods them, sharp femme claws leaving tiny holes, "Why didn't you _tell_ _me_ you were starving? I would have fed you!"

They glare at her, and Optimus nuzzles into Orion, "And you'd just use that as more of an excuse to claim us. How many times do we have to tell you this?"

She gives them an angry look, "You _are_ mine! You're supposed to be healthy, and I can only see you every two or three decacycles for two sols! How could you do this?"

"We're trying to get in the Magnus's berth, Elita-1," Orion says stiffly. "We told you that from the beginning. We enjoy interfacing with you, but you get bored of us in your berth easily, and you like Sentinel more. Please stop insisting that we are yours."

Claws tug them over to her, and Elita-1 wraps her arms around them. "You _are_ mine, but you were letting yourselves _starve_. Optimus, Orion, even if I hated you I would have given you energon."

They pull away, holding each other close, "We are just _fine_, Elita." They dodge away from her again, "We told you over and over that we are going to do our best, and only come to you if we have to." They move again, "We did not have to."

She tries to get close, but they just move away. "You were _starving_, and I had to hear about this from the fraggin' concession stand bot at the racetrack! I was lucky to even know it from him! I could have just gotten it from someone else, and it would have gotten far more distorted than it already was!"

"First of all, we were not _starving_," Orion stresses the word. "Megatron claimed we were fuel deprived, but Optimus and I have survived on fuel levels far lower before without any major negative effect. Trembling servos is a minor price to pay."

She stares at them. "You've starved before? When?"

/_We can't tell her about Haydon._/ Optimus locks his optics on Orion. /_I think we should go now._/

* * *

Orion nods sharply, and they split up, taking off for the door before she can react. The one that gets followed by her doubles back to go the datapad storage, hiding in an area she won't go, while Optimus heads straight to the front desk, keeping an audio out for her just in case he needs to pull a disappearing act.

They check each other's paint jobs, immensely pleased at the shading they paid for on their seams. It cost more, but it was _absolutely_ worth it. They're hoping this date will show how wonderful they look to Ultra, more than before, even. They know Ultra is coming to pick them up, and their sparks are shivering with nervousness.

/_Do you think he'll notice? He tries not to look at us too hard now that we know he based two characters on us._/

/_Maybe we could send him the link to the fan story we wrote about them, back before we realized they were meant to be us._/ Optimus is pretty sure the mech would get halfway through it before realizing it was all an elaborate set up plot to get the twins fragging Metalmist. Really hot fragging, too. They'd gotten a lot of positive reviews. And several invitations to come and visit, because any bots capable of writing something that spark-tingling had to be good in the berth.

Orion shakes his head, /_The authors of published works aren't legally allowed to read fanfics, remember? Just in case they use something someone already wrote. At least, they can't officially read it._/

Optimus makes a face, /_WE wouldn't care if he used our fanfic, you know. We'd happily climb into his berth so he could do all that to us._/

His twin rolls his optics, /_Yes, but that gives Ultra the excuse NOT to read it. He could glance at a few words, stop and yell at us about it. Do you want to get in trouble for sending our boss porn?_/

Optimus blinks his optics innocent and wide, /_What do you mean I sent you an inappropriate fanfic, sir? I only sent you the morning reports. I had to do so from my personal files, of course, because I worked on them last night, but- Oh, you mean I sent you porn? Oh, how horrible. I'm so~ sorry._/

Orion cuffs him gently, not hard enough to scuff his paint, /_You know he wouldn't believe that, fragger._/

Optimus frowns, /_I wish he would. I wish he'd just pull us on his lap and make us lick his spark or play with us on his desk._/

Orion presses a tiny kiss to his brother's cheek, /_Maybe he will after this. We just have to prove to him how much we want him. He's the Magnus, it isn't like anyone will blame him. We won't even have to keep working as his secretaries so he's not in a position of as much power over us./_

/_There aren't any rules against fragging secretarybots if everything is consensual,_/ Optimus grumbles. /_It's common practice. Magnus is just too fragging stubborn._/

Smiling, Orion nibbles on a headfin, teasing his brother, /_We wouldn't love him as much if he wasn't so noble. Even if it is fragging irritating._/

Optimus only sighs, leaning his head back to give Orion better access to his headfins, which his twin shamelessly takes advantage of. They both startle when their door chimes. /_Frag, is that him?_/

Orion hurries over to the door, turning on the viewscreen. It shows Ultra standing in the hallways, looking uncharacteristicly nervous. They give each other excited smiles that they don't bother to hide as they open the door. They each take one of his arms, not letting him choose where they go since he'd just make them hold each other's arms. "Hello, Ultra Magnus, sir."

They look up at him with wide optics, and the mech shifts slightly nervously, "I suppose you could call me just Ultra for now." They hold him even tighter, nuzzling into him.

"Hello, Ultra!" They want to give him a kiss, but restrain themselves, "You look very good tonight."

"Thank you," the mech says, restrained and quiet. "You look very nice tonight as well. Is that a new paintjob?" His optics slide over their frames, and a nearly silent engine rumble vibrates his frame. "You didn't have to do that. It's just a play, and we'll be in a private booth."

Even better. A private booth meant more opportunities to touch the mech without his sense of propriety getting in the way.

Optimus flickers his optics, "But we did, Ultra. You are taking us to one of the nicest theaters on Cybertron. They wouldn't let us in with bad paint jobs."

The Magnus looks faintly amused as they walk out of the apartment area, "Your previous paintjobs weren't bad. You could have gotten in very easily."

They lean against him, and Orion shakes his head, "They were faded and old. We wanted to look our absolute best for you."

The mech moves slightly so they're no longer clinging to his arms, large servos on their hips, and they add a point to their private scoreboard on how much Ultra likes them. The bot's fingers stroke their frames absently, "You already looked wonderful. A new paintjob doesn't change that."

Another point, and Optimus shifts a little to get those fingers on his chest armor, wanting Ultra to feel how smooth and polished the glass is. They'd gotten a special top-coat on it to make it glossier and more appealing to touch, and the way Ultra slides his fingers in little circles over it means it was worth every single credit spent.

Orion watches with heated optics, "Thank you for the compliment, Ultra. But we have been considering several upgrades and modifications for a while now." He lifts a ped, "Do you think we'd look good with heel mods?"

Ultra can't hide his rev, and Optimus smirks at his brother. /_Told you he likes heels._/ He looks up at the mech, "And wing mods." He's cut off by an even louder rev, and he keeps from scowling.

Orion smiles smugly, "Is there any particular type that you like specifically?" They hope he doesn't say seeker heels and wings, that's just inviting Megatron to show up and steal them into his berth. They're trying to get into Ultra's, and the Decepticon leader botnapping them just means trouble on top of trouble.

"If you are planning on getting mods, you should get the ones that you feel most comfortable with, or the ones that best suit your frame." Ultra keeps his optics fixed ahead of them, as if unwilling to look at the twins out of fear that he might jump them. "I know several very talented modding medbots. I could give you their frequencies if you like."

If he knows them personally, they would have a decent idea of what the Magnus might like his partners to have, mod-wise.

They move so they're better situated for being touched, and Ultra returns to petting their frames. Nodding at each other, they murmur, "A friend of our's is doing the mods, but we'd love to meet the medbots you recommend, just in case."

Ultra's fingers play with Orion's seams, on the outside edge of the chest windshield, "Is this friend of your's reputable? I don't want you to get into unsafe modding practices."

They push into the touches, being careful to keep their engines on a slow purr so the mech doesn't realize what he's doing, "Of course he is. Ratchet is very good at what he does, even if he _is_ very grumpy."

"You've befriended medic Ratchet? I've read several of his medical articles, and seen him in the advertisements for spark health."

Arcee hadn't even had to talk him into that. Ratchet had volunteered to stand in the posters which cheerily informed bots that spark health was important and every bot should have frequent spark exams. He looked so happy and upbeat in the poster that it was hard to reconcile that image with his true personality, which tended to be quite a bit more grumbly.

They nod, moving again to encourage the larger mech to rub harder, "He's _very_ good at what he does. His femme, Arcee, is very nice."

Ultra nods, "I think I met her once, a sparkling teacher, right?"

They smile, and Orion nuzzles against Ultra while Optimus says, "She is. Very nice, too. Her students adore her."

"Did she ever teach you?"

They look up at the mech, exclaiming in a lightly scolding tone, "Ultra! Of course she didn't." They mean because they didn't grow up here on Cybertron, but Ultra can take that in any way he wants.

Ultra flushes, catching onto the alternate meaning he'd unintentionally provided. "I remember your records say you came from another planet. You've never taken a vacation to return and visit." His servos rub steady circles on their sparkplates. "I could authorize some time off if you like."

They're never going back to Haydon and it's fragging strip-clubs ever again. Orion smiles, "That's kind of you, Ultra, but not necessary. There's no one for us to visit there anymore."

Ultra runs fingers along the seams of their plates, and they rev just a tiny bit louder against their will, "Are you sure? Almost every bot wants to visit their creators."

They fall silent at that before forcing themselves to talk, not wanting Ultra to notice what he's doing and stop, "Our creators offlined a long time ago. The planet we were on only makes us upset." They cuddle closer to the Magnus, optics dim, "Cybertron is infinitely better than our homeplanet ever was. Just doesn't compare."

"Is there any reason you won't say the planet's name? All looking into it just shows a very long trail that loops around about ten planets with no clear origin point." _Which looks very suspicious_, going unsaid.

They cuddle against him even closer, moving into his touch, "It was just our method of transportation, if you did more than just a cursory look, we suppose you could find it out. If you really want to, we won't stop you." There is nothing suspicious about Haydon IV, and they chose that service so it was harder to tell exactly which one they needed to go back to, but if dug into would reveal it. The service would also let them choose any of the ten planets they want to return to instead of Haydon IV if they ever _had_ to go back.

"We all have things in our past that trouble us, or that we aren't proud of," Ultra says kindly. "You don't have to hide it from me." His servos stop rubbing them, "You don't have to tell me, either. Not if you aren't comfortable with it. We judge you by your abilities, not your past."

They shift closer, trying to get his servos moving again, especially now that they're finally outside and bots are starting to stare at them as they walk past. They'll have to transform down soon, and then they won't get any more pettings.

Ultra pushes his fingers along their frames, and they relax into the touch to encourage him to returning to the bolder touches he gave just a little bit ago. "Are our abilities what you like, then?"

The Mangnus nods, squeezing them gently as they sigh happily against him, "I wouldn't be taking you to this play if I didn't think you could understand them. You are doing a wonderful job at the datapad sorting, and just as good at keeping me organized. I'm amazed I got anything done without you before."

They smile, dim opticked and happy, "Have you looked through the back rooms in the datapad storage since you last told us?" The Magnus shakes his head, and they ask softly, "Why not?"

Ultra rubs his servos along their frames, just barely missing their afts, "I didn't want to interrupt your work, and since I tell _you_ to take sols off, I realized that I should as well. My stress levels have decreased significantly since I stopped coming in unless it is an emergency on the sols you aren't there."

Orion moves forward slightly, pleased when the Magnus pulls him back and _d__oes_ brush his aft this time. Now, if only they could get him to _squeeze_. "You look much healthier now than you used to, Ultra. We're glad you're taking better care of yourself." /_Of course, if he let us take care of him, he'd be even better, and his spark would be glowing with health as well._/

Optimus rolls his optics, /_Yeah, and he'd be too exhausted to ever come in to work from the constant fragging._/

Orion moves slightly, and Ultra just rests his servo a little heavier without even an increase in petting, /_Only at first. He'd get used to it soon enough._/

Ultra hums softly, "I realize that I'm a better leader if I'm healthier. Before I was just too busy to be able to. Now that you're helping, it is much easier." The mech drops his servos from their frames, and they sigh unhappily. "Time to transform. You know where it is, so I won't lead if you don't want me to."

They go into vehicle mode, posing to show off their paintjob to Ultra, wanting him to see how wonderful it looks in both modes. "We'd like to just stay next to you if we could."

They each pick a side and press themselves up against Ultra's vehicle mode-he's so much larger than they are, even like this. If he ever wanted, he could carry the both of them on top of his vehicle mode.

Optimus and Orion exchange a glance, having the exact same thought. It _would_ be slagging hot to interface on top of him, when he wasn't capable of doing anything but listening and watching and seeing how slagging hot they get against his armor.

Ultra starts moving, and they stay next to him easily; the Magnus's vehicle mode isn't made for speed. Orion asks quietly, "Do you think we'll like the play?"

The larger mech laughs, "I wouldn't have offered to take you if I _didn't_ think you'd like it."

Optimus nuzzles close, "But you did just offer because I spoke ancient Cybertronion. We would have watched it even if it was terrible to improve our understanding of the language."

"And _I_ wouldn't be watching it with you if I thought it was terrible. It is good, and I think you'll enjoy it."

"What is it about?" Orion brushes his side lightly against the Magnus's, gently enough to not even transfer any paint.

The Magnus brushes back against him, "This particular play is one of my favorites. It's about lovers separated during a war, and the things they do to find each other again. It's a bit on the romantic side, so I hope you don't mind romances."

Optimus purrs his answer, "We love romances."

There's a tiny blush on Ultra's windshield, and they give themselves another point, "That's good. Now I'm even more certain that you'll like it."

They smirk to themselves as Orion murmurs, "Does it have a sad ending?"

"No. A very happy one. Which isn't typical of the time that it was written."

They chime together, "That's good. We love happy endings."

If the play is from a very early era, or a very late or modern one, then it might even have 'facing in it. Though, with their luck at the moment, it is probably from one of the censored eras and has nothing more than a kiss or two in it, along with a fade to black when the bots approach a berth for their reunion.

They're hoping for interfacing, of course.

They make it to the theater, and transform just a tiny bit after Ultra so that he's fully in bot mode as they attach to his sides. He looks faintly confused, but his arms settle on them easily, servos rubbing their frames gently. "Shall we head in?"

They nod, cuddling close with contented looks on their faces. When they make it to the private box, they make _sure_ that Ultra stays between them. The Magnus keeps trying to protest but stops when they actually sit down. Orion moves slightly and is rewarded by Ultra petting his sparkplates absently while focusing on Optimus.

Primus, it's tempting to just slide them right open under Ultra's servos, and let the bot overload him right there, but Orion knows that even _unlocking_ would get Ultra to stop. So slagging disappointing. "Do we get any refreshments here? I know Optimus loves energon bars," Orion smiles over at his twin.

"I love _sharing_ them," Optimus corrects him. "Have you ever had anything from this theater, Ultra? What would you recommend?"

Ultras fingers run along them absently, "I suppose that the energon candy is good. They have almost any kind you could want. Is there any specific that you'd like?"

They exchange a look, not really sure if they should answer how they want. Ultra _does_ stress telling the truth, so they answer, "We'll take anything you want us to eat. We aren't picky." Not that they don't like the finer blends of energon or things like that, but if the bot they're with is eating slag, they will too.

Ultra frowns at them, "How about we get a selection, and you try them all?"

"That sounds like a great idea," Orion smiles, leaning against Ultra's side. "Thank you for offering." He flickers his optics the tiniest bit, daring to flirt now that they are in a dimly lit place with some measure of privacy. "You will have to show us your favorites so we may try them." /_And he should feed them to us with his servos so we can suck on his fingers._/

/_Good luck convincing him of that._/

Orion keeps from sighing, /_I'll need it._/

* * *

Please Review

Second to last chapter :3

And I'd like to know what you'd like me to upload next! I have two fics edited, and ready to post. A Sari centric one, and a Megatron centric one. What would you like me to put up more? I am putting it to a vote, since I don't care either way. I'd like to know what _you_ think. Only one vote per person, though. No double voting by going to my tumblr and live journal to vote there in addition to here. That is mean to do :C


	9. Chapter 9

Transformers belongs to Hasbro

* * *

They watch as Ultra orders the candies, and keep from giggling in delight as he gets them tiny, bite-sized pieces of crystals. The mech looks at them with a smile on his face, "I got some of everything. If you want more, just tell me and we'll get it."

They move closer to him, trying to encourage him to start touching again. They are _horribly_ tempted to ask him if he'd feed them, but that will just get the noble bot flustered and onto their goal. "We will."

Orion takes a piece of crystal and offers it across Ultra's lap to his brother, who leans over to take it from his fingers with his mouth. Optimus moans softly, "Oh, that was delicious. They must use the best crystal crops here."

Ultra flushes with heat, watching them exchange bites of crystal candy. "They do. I wouldn't offer you anything I didn't personally enjoy myself, after all."

Orion licks his brother's fingers before licking his lips, "Would you like us to share, Ultra? It would be rude if we took it all for ourselves."

The mech's spark pulses hotly, but he shakes his head. "I'm quite fine how it is. You can keep feeding yourselves. The play will be starting soon, as well."

Disappointing. Not only will they have to stop to actually watch the play, they had been planning on finger feeding the larger mech. They nod, cuddling up next to Ultra. "Would you help us with translating if we get stuck as we watch?"

"I will. The dialect is mostly soldier common, and that's a good portion of what you've been working with in the stacks. You shouldn't have any problem. There are only a few instances of elite speech, and they're all very short. The play was intended for soldiers." Ultra pets them absently, and they both quiet their revving engines. "It's too bad we're back in this box. It's better when you're surrounded by other bots."

"Do they encourage audience participation?"

Ultra shakes his head, servos rubbing their frames, "It just makes me think of when I first saw it. I like being surrounded by others when I watch. It's nice for me to be with someone. I'm glad you're both here."

They snuggle in close, engines purring happily, "And you were going to just take one of us, or not go at all. We're glad you're with us, too."

"Very glad," Optimus hopes they'll be able to get up on Ultra's lap by the end of the first act.

Ultra pulls them against his sides when the lights go even darker and the curtains on the stage open to reveal a rather elaborate set. There are two bots standing in the midst of what appears to be a battlefield, strewn with rubble and a few bits of metal that Optimus assumes are meant to represent destroyed buildings, or offlined bots. The bots talk in a cadence they aren't used to, but that can easily be attributed to them being entirely self-taught.

They settle in to watch, cuddling close to Ultra, and shifting a little bit there's a tense moment on stage. By the end of the first act, they _are_ in Ultra's lap, who barely seems to realize they aren't supposed to be there. They spend the entirety of the second act watching the play and slowly slipping tiny pieces of candy into the larger mech's mouth. By the third, they are wondering if they can be bold enough to kiss him, but instead settle on nuzzling into his neck as they feed him. His fingers are gentle on their frames when the lights come up, and he looks down at them in absolute confusion because he can't stand up to clap without making them fall off.

They gaze up at him with dim optics. By the end of this date, Ultra will be aware that it _is_ a date, and they will have stolen at least one kiss each from him. But the time for kisses is not now, and Optimus and Orion pretend to be drowsy, nuzzling his chestplates. "That was an excellent play, Ultra. Very romantic."

Orion nods, "I would love to watch more plays with you, but now . . . I think we could do with going out for some energon."

Ultra pauses for a moment, optics roaming their relaxed frames, "Are you sure you wouldn't prefer just going back home? I could drop you off, and you could go recharge."

Optimus nuzzles the larger bot's neck, "We'd love to spend more time with you, though."

"You already spend almost every sol with me," Ultra murmurs, sounding like he can't even convince himself.

Orion runs his servo along the mech's frame, just missing the sparkplates, "But we don't spend time with you when we aren't at work. We'd love to just be with you."

Ultra glances down at their servos, "Ah . . this is not-" he shakes himself, "this isn't very professional. I wouldn't want to take advantage of either of you."

Drat. He's starting to figure them out. Optimus smiles brightly, "You aren't taking advantage. If anything, we are." He lowers his optics, "We haven't paid for anything thus far." It doesn't bother them at all, since they are used to being treated on dates, but if it helps Ultra rationalize their dating, Optimus and Orion are willing to play it up.

Ultra gives them a hesitant look, "It still isn't professional. I shouldn't have done this at all."

They look up at him with sad optics, "But if you hadn't come, we wouldn't have had help with the parts we didn't understand."

Ultra shifts uncomfortably, "The Decepticon amba-"

They give him a horrified look, "Last time we showed how proficient we are with ancient Cycbertronion, they only stopped trying to open us up because Elita-1 pulled us away!"

Ultra Magnus pulls them closer, arms tightening with outrage, "They have been informed not to harass you. All bots have been informed to not harass you." _Because you are mine_, his optics seem to add, and the twins shiver happily.

He'd been having them sit in consort position beside him at many council meetings now, and it _had_ decreased the number of bots trying to get in a casual grope.

They nuzzle Ultra's chest, "We're just glad you're the one that came with us." They let their fingers wander along the larger bot's frame, careful not to touch anywhere _too_ incriminating, "Will you let us buy you energon?"

Ultra is still looking hesitant, but nods. "If that's what you really want me to do. I don't think we should do this again. It isn't pro-" They run their servos up his chest, stopping just below the sparkplates, making him stop talking.

"Don't be silly, Ultra. You had fun watching the play with us, just like we had fun with you. Wouldn't you like us to be with you the next time you go?" Optimus is tempted to kiss the mech, but they know that won't help.

Orion continues for him, "You could go to more than just the one every ten stellar cycles if you take us."

"It would be fun, and we rarely get to go to things like this. Elita and Sentinel aren't interested in these kinds of plays." Optimus and Orion decide it's time to take the decision away from Ultra Magnus. "Let's get going. If we hurry, we should be able to get a good table at The Bolt or the Crystal Tine."

Ultra Magnus lets them pull him out of the theater without many more protests.

* * *

They sit at the desk while Hot Rod shifts from ped to ped in front of them. The racecar rubs the back of his helmet nervously, "Does... does this mean you no longer want to date me?"

They look at the news datapad that Roddy handed them, it is filled with pictures of them out on their date with Ultra. They tilt their head thoughtfully, and pull the mech closer. "Do _you_ no longer want to date us? We told you what we're doing, and you can leave at any time."

The bot bites his lower lip, "If... if you want to stop being with me, I won't tell you that I want you to stay."

Optimus taps the bot on the nose, soft and playful, "You come to our work to ask us this, and then get all nervous and indecisive. _Do_ you want us to stay with you? We're happy to keep going if you are. Ultra isn't going to admit that he dated us anytime soon."

"I'm not sure I should," Hot Rod says quietly. "Dating the Magnus's intended consorts doesn't seem like a wise idea if I ever want to be accepted into the Elite Guard."

They lean in at the same time and kiss both of his cheeks at once. "Don't be silly," Optimus insists. "Ultra Magnus refuses to even admit we are dating right now. Even after we kissed him. It's going to take a while to sway him to our side, and we would enjoy dating you for now."

The racecar looks at the floor, still nervous. "Still, I don't know if I even should." He rubs the back of his helmet again, "I mean, should I even be talking about this _here_? I'm in the Autobot Headquarters to talk to the Magnus's secretarybots about if we should be dating or not."

They smile at him, flickering their optics prettily, "You have every right to ask this, Roddy. It might have been better to talk to us after we got of work, but we're happy to spend our break with you." They stand up, moving around the desk to nuzzle the racecar lovingly, "We'd love to keep dating you, but it is up to you if we do or not. If you decide you don't think we should, then you don't have to."

"I," Roddy flushes. "I'd like to date you, but I'm still not sure it's a good idea. I would like to ask the Magnus for permission."

Optimus and Orion exchange a glance. /_That doesn't sound like a very good idea to me,_/ Orion warns, and Optimus nods.

/_If we ever want to get both in the berth at the same time, it might be best to just let him ask right now. Then he could ask about the Elite Guard at the same time._/

They both nod at that, and press kisses to Hot Rod's mouth. When the bot is flushing bright red, they nuzzle him lovingly, "We'll schedule you in to meet him. The only time we have this solar cycle is a two breem window, though. If you're willing to take it with us there, anyway That's when we give him his energon." They each toy with a point of his chevron, "If you want to talk to him alone, it will take a decacycle or more."

Roddy moves away from their touches reluctantly, "I..." The mech straightens up, and their sparks flutter at how noble he looks. "I have no problem with the both of you being there with me. When will this happen?"

"Next megacycle," Optimus says, sliding his servos down to play with his spoiler. "You can go visit the datapad storage with Orion until then if you'd like."

Hot Rod nods decisively, "Yes. That sounds like an excellent plan."

/_And you can have some alone time with our Roddy,_/ Optimus smirks at Orion. /_Make sure he's not got too much of your paint on him when you bring him back, brother._/

Orion pulls Hot Rod with him, nuzzling their racecar lovingly, /_No promises. He's just so wonderful when he worries about what other bots think._/

Optimus settles down at the desk again, returning to work.

A bit less than a megacycle later, Optimus stands up and heads to the dispenser in one of the common rooms. /_You need to come on up. I'm getting the energon now._/

/_Coming. Will you get enough for me, too?_/

Optimus avoids one of the more persistent bots, while flickering his optics prettily at one of the shyer ones as he walks, /_No problem. I'm glad they actually dispense enough for the both of us now. The single cube for the both of us every sol was absolutely horrible._/

Ultra had probably tweaked the systems until they were running properly for the both of them. /_Get some for Roddy too. He's all nervous. And running really hot,_/ Orion giggles, /_He keeps trying to wipe my paint off of his chest. He's only making it worse, of course._/

Optimus is looking forward to seeing it for himself. /_Hurry your aft up._/

/_We're coming, we're coming. Calm down. Meet you in the usual place?_/

He pours four cubes of energon, pulling out a tray to carry them, /_A little closer to the office this time, I think. No need for bad rumors for Roddy if Ultra freaks._/

/_I'll take the shortcut, then. Meet you there._/

They meet in front of Ultra's office, and Optimus takes the time to admire the bold streaks of blue servo paint on Roddy's sparkplates. /_Were you trying to get him to open up for you?_/ He glances up at Roddy's face, and the posture of his frame, /_Did you overload him without even letting me feel it?_/

Orion smirks, /_Yep_./

/_Fragger_./

Roddy moves to kiss Optimus, only to freeze, realizing where they are. "Are we going in?"

Optimus nuzzles their racecar, kissing him slowly, glossa gaining entrance. When he pulls away, Hot Rod has that wonderful lustfilled look that makes them use his spark over and over. They takes his servos, "We are. He may not pay attention at first, but since what you want to ask won't take long, it won't be that bad."

"And I'm sure he doesn't get many requests to date the bots that he's already dating," Hot Rod says wryly, trying to calm his revving engine down. "This is an utterly terrible way to meet the Magnus for the first time. If my creators knew, they would drop into stasis lock out of shock."

Smiling, Orion pulls the bot into the room with them, "Time for your fuel, UltraMagnus, sir."

The Magnus doesn't even look up, "Thank you, just put it on the desk."

Optimus does, putting it just where Ultra likes it, "There's also someone here that wants to talk to you, and we'd like you to if you think you can."

Ultra keeps his nose buried in the datapad. "Is the bot scheduled in?"

Orion positions Roddy so he's standing at the correct stance of attention. "Not exactly, but it is kind of important to us if you talk to him."

Finally, the Magnus looks up, his optics widening a bit. "You've brought one of your . . ," his optics flick down to the paint on Hot Rod's chest, "companions to pay me a visit?"

Optimus smiles brightly. "Of course we did. He wants to ask you something."

Hot Rod is already flushed a nervous shade of red over his already red plating, "I was hoping to get your permission to date them."

Ultra has a flash of possesiveness over his features before looking back at the datapad, "I was unaware that I had control over who they choose to spend time with. They're adults, and can do what they want. You don't need to ask me, and they already seem to like you just fine." The Magnus flicks a finger at Hot Rod's plates, "So you must have gotten _their_ approval already."

Roddy shuffles slightly, "It is just..." The mech straightens, and the twins' optics dim happily, "Sir, you have them under your protection, and have said absolutely no harassment. I plan on being an elite guard as soon as my creators finally realize I'm serious about wanting to be and they allow it. I don't want to mess that up by being with them. We've already discussed it, and it hinges on you."

Their mech keeps his optics on the datapad in front of him, but his expression looks rather pained. "If they wish to date you, they have my blessings." The Magnus seems to sink in on himself a bit. "You're a good mech, and if they're interested in you, then you deserve a chance." He clutches the stylus for the pad, "Please leave now. I need to get this report finished within the megacycle."

The twins give each other frantic unhappy looks, unsure what to do. Hot Rod looks at them both, and says cautiously, "If... if you want, I really don't have to date them. This is all a-"

Ultra points at the door, "Please leave. All three of you."

They do, Roddy in front as the twins clutch each other unhappily. The moment the door shut, they lean against the wall, whimpering unhappily. "H-he thinks we don't _want_ him now! We knew this would be a bad idea!"

Hot Rod glances at their frantic poses, and then pushes his way back into the office.

The twins try to follow, only to whine again when they realize that Ultra has locked them out. /_Primus, we fragged this up,_/ Optimus clutches at Orion, and they both sink down at the desk. /_We should have guessed. He's an older model type. He probably doesn't understand the way we 'face other bots._/

Orion leans against him, /_But he's an MUCH older model. He knew a spike was a 'facing mod. The older texts talk about these sort of things a lot._/

/_He said he watched that play in a large crowd, he may only be in that age group. The heavily censored one._/

/_Frag. It's going to be so fragging hard to make this up to him if he's from that group and still feels that way about things._/

They don't feel any shame in interfacing with bots they like who like them in return. It's fun, harmless, and good for the spark. However, some older bots, or more conservatively raised bots don't feel the same way about interfacing. If Ultra is one of them . . .

Well, their imagined lives as his consorts might have to be rethought. They cuddle closer, sniffling unhappily. They don't _want_ to give up the dream they had since they were sparklings.

By the time the door reopens, they're thinking that something absolutely terrible happened, but Hot Rod steps out with Ultra following him. They blink at them sadly, unsure what they're going to be told, and preparing for the worst. The Magnus moves over to their side, putting a cautious servo on each of their frames, "Hot Rod informs me that you both adore me, and are, in fact, trying to figure out a way to get me to bond with you. Is this true?"

They blush and shoot Hot Rod dark looks around the Magnus's frame. /_Traitor_,/ Optimus mouths silently at him, and the racecarbot only gives him a stern look in response.

Optimus nods reluctantly at Ultra, "Yes. We have been considering a way to inform you of it ourselves, but the timing was not right, or the setting inappropriate."

The Magnus kneels down, so they're more level, "And when _would_ the timing have been right?"

The give him an unhappy look, "When you would stop insisting that it isn't professional not to date us when we made it so _obvious_ we would try to do anything to make you happy. We went on a date with you, and you kept insisting it wasn't even after we kissed you and asked if you wanted to come in to our apartment."

"It wouldn't have been right to come in. You were both dangerously close to being overcharged from the energon at the restaurant, and I refuse to take advantage of overcharged bots who may not know better than to flirt with a worn-out old frame."

Orion slaps Ultra's shoulder lightly, "Don't refer to yourself that way. You're not some ancient rust-bucket, Ultra. You're a strong, healthy mech in the prime of his life."

Ultra shakes his head, "The only bot the same age as me that's still online is _Megatron_. I'd say that's a good indicator of how old I am, you two. You don't want a bot like me."

They frown at him, and Optimus crosses his arms, "We've wanted to be with you _forever_. Being around you only solidified our resolve."

The Magnus raises an optic ridge, "Really? Hot Rod didn't say how long it was, since you weren't very specific with him. Would you care to enlighten me?"

They flush-it's not something they want to admit, that they've been infatuated with him since sparklinghood. That they'd played pretend with washable paint and sparkling toy bonding brushes and made pretend vows to Ultra. Optimus dims his optics instead, "Do you really want to know how long we have been self-servicing to thoughts of you?"

Ultra rubs his optics, "If it is _just_ about 'facing me, I think that I'll have to get new secretarybots. It isn't good practice to ha-"

Orion puts up a servo to Ultra's mouth, and whispers softly, "We wanted to be with you since we were sparklings. You're noble."

"You're kind," Optimus murmurs.

They move a little closer to Ultra, slipping into his arms as they say together, "You're exactly what we had wanted and more. We aren't here because of your position of power, or your money. We want you because you're so genuine." They cautiously press kisses to his lips, "If you really don't want us, we will stop trying for you. But you keep showing every sign, over and over, that you want us like we want you."

Ultra Magnus flushes with heat, "Whether I want you or not is not the question here. It doesn't matter how I may feel. It is inappropriate for me to have a relationship with bots who work directly beneath me."

Hot Rod coughs, and the Magnus flushes darker.

They lean against him, Orion murmuring, "It _is_ allowed, though. As long as we're consenting, you can."

They share a look, and Optimus continues, "We can even stop being your secretarybots, if it is so terrible for you. We can work down at the datapad storage."

"No." Ultra squeezes them closer, "You will be staying here, with me. If you spend all your sol down in storage, then you'll end up starving yourselves again." He lifts a servo and stops their protests, "I won't lose the most skilled secretarybots I've ever had." Wincing, he adds, "Even if I do decide to . . . court you."

Their optic ridges lift a bit. Courtship? They'd just been hoping for dating and eventually convincing him to bond with them many vorns in the future. Courtship means _certain_ bonding, and is significantly better than anything they had hoped for.

They cuddle up closer to him, fingers just on the outside edges of the larger mech's sparkplates. Optimus looks up at Ultra with wide optics, "_If_ you decide to court us?"

Ultra winces, looking away, "You're both dating Hot Rod. What kind of mech would I be if I tried to break you up?"

Roddy coughs in his servo, "Sir? They had made it very clear that if you showed actual interest, that they would go to you. I accepted that when we started."

The twins smile naughtily, "We would stop dating for you, Ultra, but if you're willing to allow it, we'd like to keep Roddy." Optimus slips free to grab the racecarbot and pull him over to them. "He's adorable. He reminds us of you."

Ultra Magnus and Hot Rod shift uncomfortably, trying to withdraw without appearing to put any distance between themselves.

Orion pouts, "We won't date him if you don't want us to."

They press kisses to Ultra's lips, letting Roddy move out of reach, "We want _you_ most."

They leans against Ultra, and the mech shifts slightly, "I... I don't know how much Hot Rod is like me, but I think it would be a good idea to test his character by recommending him to join the academy to be an elite guard if he can make it."

Hot Rod blinks in surprise, "Sir? I wasn't... You don't have to, sir. I'm sure I can convince my creators to allow me in on my own."

"You came to ask for permission to date the twins, and then came back after I dismissed you. You deserve a chance to prove yourself in the Guard." Ultra strokes possessive servos down the twins' sparkplates, and they shiver. "They seem to see something in you, and I see it as well. I will speak with your creators about allowing you to join."

Hot Rod stands up straighter, "Thank you, sir."

Ultra stands up, scooping the twins in his arms, "I need to talk to Orion and Optimus about our courting measures, and we will com you when we're coming over. You can go prepare your creators for the visit."

Linking their servos, the twins follow Ultra into his office. Their future is looking bright now, brighter than it has ever looked before, and they are looking forward to whatever comes their way.

Especially if it involves Ultra and Roddy in the berth together.

* * *

Please Review

Okay, last chapter! Yeah!

Like I said last time, I have two stories all edited that I can put up. One is Sari centric ( votes so far) and one is Megatron centric ( votes so far). Choose which one you like if you haven't voted yet.


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